Unmentionable
by sweetprincipale
Summary: A sequel to Uncontrollable.S.4 Buffy and Spike were trapped in the sexual atmosphere of the Lowell House during Where the Wild Things Are. After their night of possessed passion they see each other in a different light- but refuse to share the secret. R&R Sunnydale Memorial Awards Round 26 Winner:Best Pairing, Best Ep. Re-Write, Runner up: Best Mature Spuffy, Best Series
1. Chapter 1

**Unmentionable**

**by Sweetprincipale**

_A __sequel __to__ "__Uncontrollable__"__. Please __read __that __first, __or __this __won__'__t __make __much __sense. __Begins __about __a __week __after __the__ "__Uncontrollable__" __version __of __the __incidents __at __the __Lowell __House __in "__Where __the __Wild __Things __Are"._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Dedicated to trashyfiction, Sirius120, jamiee001, Dreylin, and DLillith21_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part I**

"Hey." Buffy slid into the front seat of the DeSoto as it pulled up alongside her as she walked towards the dorms.

"Hey yourself. Saw you over on McLane Ave. Knocked that Venadentis demon for six." Spike blew a shaft of grayish mentholated smoke out the open door.

"Was that what that thing was?" Buffy shivered. "All teeth and the stupid thing kept trying to bite my wrists."

"It eats by suckin' your veins out." Spike snorted. "Don't teach you much at Slayer School, do they?" He mocked.

"They taught me how to make you explode into little pieces of dust." Buffy smiled nastily.

"Yeah, they did, Pet. An' who taught you how to make me jus' plain explode?" Spike asked, running one finger lightly up her leather sleeve.

"I- I don't know." Buffy suddenly felt like there wasn't enough air, like she couldn't breathe properly. "Demonic house thingys?"

"Mm, maybe the first time- or dozen." He let his hand fall, he wasn't pushy- well, not to the extent he'd get his jaw cracked. "Now the three or four times since..."

"We should stop this." Buffy looked at her knees.

"Why? You don't- you haven't changed your mind about what we did? What was done, rather?" He looked at his own knees. It was only a week ago they'd gotten stuck in that cursed frat, made someone's little sex show puppets, forced to feel things they didn't want to feel, do things they didn't want to do- until they found out that they actually were blindingly, bed breakingly good together. And in terms of a love life and all its hurts and wounds- very, very similar.

Buffy shook her head frantically. "No! No, Spike, I made it really clear, to everyone, that you never hurt me. Even _Xander_ agrees that what they forced us to do was- um- abuse- on both of us. Not you against me."

"Don't like to think you'd ever- you know. I mean I'm evil- but not like that." Spike reminded her, reminded himself. There was a difference between eating children and torturing men before they were dinner just to feel the power of life and death and violence under your hands. There was a difference between that and forcing a woman sexually. He hadn't ever done that- he'd had his whole life and death tied up in women- his rejected love made him go to Drusilla in that alley, his sense of filial love made him return to his mother to try and offer her the same eternal cure from pain and weakness he'd found- or thought he'd found. Still bloody hurt inside when the one you think is yours to love forever leaves you, like Drusilla did- more often than he'd ever admit to himself. And Drusilla was forced, forced before and after her turning, until she bloody well didn't know to say no anymore. Or at least that's what he told himself to believe.

"I know. You asked me. Not that we had a choice."

"So I'm no better than-"

"Hey! Don't do that. Don't beat yourself up. Oh God, what am I saying?"

"Somethin' nice. I don't know why you bother, but I'm glad you're not stakin' me for what I did."

"We did." Buffy corrected. "And we did have a little bit of a choice. Whether or not it was bad or good, and we made it good. Really good. Reeeally, really good." Buffy babbled, and then shook her head to bring herself back on track. "You told me that. The choice stuff."

"Easy Slayer, slow down." Spike chuckled. "Good thing I've got super speed in the hearin' department as well as the reflexes. Glad you're still okay with that night."

Buffy chewed her lip. "I'm okay with the rest of it, too." She let her fingers drift a little closer to the hand that rested near her leg. "But still- we should stop this."

"Yeah. Know what you mean. What would people say?" He twitched his finger out until it just barely touched hers.

"Like you've got any reputation left." Buffy scoffed.

"Like you want to get one." Spike scoffed right back, pretending her fingers weren't creeping onto the back of his hand, like he couldn't feel her warmth starting to rub off on him.

"You know I have one now. Riley's walking around the campus looking like a plastic surgery patient, jaw wired shut, nose all taped up and his cheekbones..."

"Not a patch on mine." Spike grinned.

"Shut up or I'll give you a matching set. You can be twins."

"Jus' dust me, Slayer, before you put me anywhere close to bein' like that bastard." Spike growled vehemently.

"You're actually coming out way ahead of him right now in the decent human being- or- thing- category."

"Bite your tongue, woman."

"Don't say, or you'll do it for me." Buffy punched his arm lightly. "You already used that line."

"A week an' my material's used up. More proof that we shouldn't be here. In the front seat of my car."

"Right." Buffy nodded firmly. She tried to pull her fingertips from the back of his hand, leave the cool skin that reminded her of all the love she wasn't supposed to feel anymore, all the "letting go" she was supposed to do for a certain other cold outside, warm inside man. "Right. We shouldn't be in the front seat of your car." Her voice sounded like it was being forced out, her fingers starting to dig into his hand. Her breathing became erratic. "We should be in the back."

"God, Slayer, you little minx." Spike found himself scrambling out of the car and out of his duster. "You sure?"

Buffy faced him over the roof of the car as she too hopped out, heading for the backseat. "You gonna ask me that every time?"

"'Til you stop doin' the self-doubt thing jus' before we get down to it, yeah, think I will."

"Okay. Okay." Buffy slid into the backseat, lying down, her coat flung over the head rest, shoes kicked to the floor with the litter of old bottles and butts. "I promise. No more self-doubt. If you promise to stop asking."

"Easier said than-"

"I'll hit you if I don't like it." She laughed up at him as his black clad figure prowled into position on top of her, cold enough not to be human, warm enough to offer her comfort she didn't like admitting she wanted.

"Or you could jus' say no. I'll listen to you- when we're doin' this. _Only_ when we're doin' this. The rest of the time I'll do whatever I want, jus' to piss you off." He said with a cocky jerk of his head, popping out his jaw in a sneer.

"I got it, I got it." She rolled her eyes.

"Good. Jus' so we're clear." His hand rested on her hip. "We can get down to it, then?"

"No more asking!"

"That wasn't permission, you daft bint, it was- manners." He admitted with a guilty huff.

"William the Bloody, Spike- has manners?" She asked incredulously.

"I always let the ladies go first, don't I?" He smirked, cocking an eyebrow.

"You do that." Buffy conceded, and slowly snaked her hands between their waists, tugging down his zipper, then her own. "Oooh, someone missed me."

Spike bit his lip in a half-snarl. Curse that telltale organ. He gently pushed a finger inside her silky panties and down neatly between her nether lips, like he was an expert, which if you took into account his years of pleasing Dru, he was.

Buffy cursed her stupid, betraying body for a second, until that slim, strong finger split her and slid inside like the reverse of a hot knife through butter. She was the hot one, he was cold, but Buffy felt like she was melting as he went through her. "Missed me, too, I see." He stated.

She was going to tell him not to flatter himself, but stopped. Of course she missed him- the sex god part and the understanding part, the not having to love him just to enjoy him part. And when that finger start a soft, tantalizing stroke, in and out, deeper and deeper each time- she just moaned and arched for an answer.

"That's right, Luv. 'Cause there's no point if it doesn't make you feel good." He purred in her ear, a silky, dark voice that reminded her he was, or at least had been, a bad, bad man. Strange bedfellow for a good, good girl.

One hand shoved her pants to her knees, and her remaining hand took him hard, pumped him hard, and sheathed him inside her without preamble. "Oh. Ohhh, God, Slayer. Didn't I teach you anything? Foreplay? Time? Don't rush the pleasure?" Spike groaned, head thrown back in sudden ecstasy.

"I usually patrol for a couple more hours, Spike." She breathed, clenching hard around him, letting feeling flood her. Simple, basic, feeling. No strings attached.

"First time fast, next time slow got it." He breathed onto her mouth, not into it. They hadn't quite worked out when they kissed or didn't. 'Cause it was intimate. Kissing slowed it down, made it- affectionate. Affectionate led to him calling her Buffy and a hesitant slip of a whisper brushing his ear. A soft little gasp of "My William" 'cause she knew it was what Dru called him and he missed it so bloody much. Goddamn, it hurt so good...

"Right." She agreed, breathing up to him, eyes wide when they weren't fluttering.

"Bloody hell- you're- tight." He grunted surging his hips forward, lips still just a fraction apart.

"You're big." She grunted back.

"You heal tight, don't you? Slayer package?"

"I don't know. We could test drive that theory- if we could- ever get- out of- this car." She spoke in time to his thrusts.

"You wanna be down an' dirty- we could- get on top- of the hood. But don't you dent it!"

"I really don't want- the neighborhood baddies- or anyone- to see this." She laughed slightly.

"You wanna try the crypt?" He offered after a few moments of earnest pulsing, jaw gritting.

Buffy paused, shuddering slightly at the overload of him, just so strong, not holding back, and not able to hurt her, the very best thing she'd ever felt. "Maybe." She finally managed to say.

"You gotta at least learn to get your pants off first. Hips at a better angle. The young- always in such a bloody hurry."

"I'm sorry- who couldn't wait a couple days to come kill me? Oh wait, I remember, it was_ you_! Rush much?" She glared up at him.

"Well- I'm not- killin' you - now." Spike dug into her harder, with his hands on her sides, and his cock deep inside. "I tell you, Pet, gotta stop confusin' lovers an' fighters."

"You're not my- lover." Buffy let her hands grasp his sides in a frenzy of pre-orgasm pleasure.

"True. Then stop confusin' fightin' with shaggin'." He watched her unblinkingly. "Love this bit of the show..." He whispered more to himself than to her- right before he watched her unravel around him, screaming, clawing, convulsing, milking him until he couldn't help but join her.

I do that, I make Mr. Badass go wild, Buffy thought, watching him suddenly jackhammer against her, his black boots gouging the door, chunks of upholstery cracking off in his hands when he got to the peak. She smiled through her own climax and watched him finally collapse on top of her with a burst of tepid wetness, filling her and overflowing her.

Spike heaved two unneeded breaths and wiped his face against her neck, not because he was sweating but because _she_ was, and he loved to taste her sweet salty skin. "Good?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded, voice high and dazed, sounding like a giggly school girl after her first kiss. Speaking of which- she gave him a lopsided grin and tipped her head back as he adjusted himself on top of her. She pecked his lips as they spread in a smug smile.

"Are you finally ready to slow down?" He arched one eyebrow in mock severity.

"Maybe." She agreed. She shimmied out of her pants and urged him out of his dark denim with little tugs at his hipbones. "Oh, ick. We have to start putting a towel or something under us." She wrinkled her nose at the wetness on her thighs.

"Or, again- crypt." Spike rolled his eyes.

"I've seen your crypt. Dusty, gritty, and dead people."

"First off, you've seen the top floor. Second- you're full of a dead person at the moment, right to your pink pouty hilt, so I'd stop worryin' about that bit. An' lastly- I got a queen sized piece a confectionary, all red silk an' brass bedstead downstairs."

"You have a downstairs?" Buffy sat partway up, head on the arm rest of the car door. "Really?"

"Bugger." Spike muttered. "Forget I said anything."

"It's okay. It- um- it can come under the heading of us not telling anybody about what we're doing." Buffy shrugged. What did it matter if he had a balcony and a two car garage? He wasn't able to hurt anyone and he sure as hell wasn't hurting her at the moment, so it wasn't like his secret bedroom was a big deal.

"Another little secret for the stash?" He relaxed slightly.

"Along with your natural hair color." She deadpanned.

"And yours." He chuckled.

"Except yours isn't really a secret. What do you put on there, straight bleach?" She tentatively stroked his hair. Hmm. Surprisingly soft once he let it get mussed up a little.

"Least I'm makin' no pretense about mine." Spike waggled his tongue in that seductive, almost unholy way. "Whereas you-" he let himself lean into her touch, and then buried his cheek in her soft, soft hair. Softer than Drusilla's, but nowhere near the ebony sheen he loved, "you keep yours a dead secret. How many of us know? Five, countin' yourself?"

"Stop." She sounded genuinely offended, and to her surprise he backed off the teasing immediately. He was right. Spike in a fight and Spike in bed were vastly different entities. "Why'd you do that?" She demanded, slowly sinking back onto the bench seat of the classic car.

"Thought we were makin' jokes." He shrugged, shifting with her.

"Why'd you stop?" She clarified, settling under him fully once again.

"Don't want to get staked, do I, Slayer?" He shook his head at her apparent stupidity.

"You were being nice. Again." She accused.

"Oh, an' you're not?" He countered hotly.

"Well- I'm a good guy." She pouted. "I do nice."

"Apparently, I do nice now, too." He rubbed her stomach in a slow, southerly sweep. " 'Do' bein' the operative word."

"And you've reset to jerk." She sighed dramatically.

"Well, what do you want, Luv? Which do you prefer, Mr. Goodtimes or Mr. Utterly-Cheeky-But Handsome- Bastard?" He cried in exasperation.

"I- I just like- I mean- prefer- how you- I don't know." She trailed off. "Both-ish?"

Spike laughed. "I don't want to make you upset about your bits an' pieces. You're a right honey, Slayer. Now, if we were talkin' about your fightin' skills..."

"Which we're not." Buffy took a deep breath and shivered from being on the leather of the seats, the lukewarm body on top of her. Unthinkingly, Spike held her closer, a faint trace of concern on his face. And hate to admit it though she did, she liked it.

"No, we're not talkin' about fightin' at all." Spike agreed, lids lowering.

"Talking's overrated." She murmured with a pleading edge in her voice.

"Get right to the action, I like that in a girl." Spike let her take his head in her palms and pull him into a searing open mouthed kiss.

"Shhh." She whispered tensely.

"I know." He muttered into her mouth, between the heated kisses. Kisses meant slowing down, letting all the unspoken junk they didn't want to tell anyone about get out of their frustrated systems. "Shhh. I know." He soothed, and their bodies started tangling slowly and insistently together again.

* * *

><p>"Is Buffy always this late?" Tara asked softly as she entered Willow's dark dorm room.<p>

"Yeah, she's usually out until after the Bronze closes anyway, looks out for the not-so-aware people who might get bitten." Willow dug in her bureau and pulled out a handful of crystals. "Found 'em. Back to your place?"

"Sure. Unless you think we should wait for her. O-or go find her." Tara didn't want to be selfish with Willow, especially when Buffy probably needed her so badly just now.

"I don't want to crowd her. She- she broke up with Riley, you know. He was a major crap head over the- the incident at the party."

"Has she talked to you at all about what happened?" Tara didn't look at her, didn't feel comfortable, like she was getting too involved in someone's private pain.

"No details. I mean- she and Spike..." Willow blushed and shook her head angrily. "They had sex. A couple times, and she's only ever really said a couple things, that they felt like they had to, that they were both resisting right until they figured out that they were up against something they couldn't fight and beat. He never hurt her. He actually asked her permission- even though he knew she was pretty much - helpless. Wow. Buffy and helpless do not go in the same sentence." Willow said in a voice of un-accepting misery.

"I know. Sh-she must feel so awful. B-because she could have fought anyone else off, and normally Spike couldn't have ever touched her."

"No, he could have touched her that night, because he never tried to hurt her. I'm serious, she's like- violent- about him trying not to hurt her."

"She might be in denial. I'm just worried about her. I know I d-don't have the right, but-"

"Of course you have the right! We're friends! We care and look out and do the whole 'got your back' thing." Willow cried.

"There's a counseling group on campus." Tara murmured, not looking at Willow.

"For- survivors?" She asked timidly.

"If she wants to. Some people don't like to share."

Willow's stomach hurt suddenly with some deep, hard, unknown pain. "Tara?" _No. Not my Tara..._

"On the other hand- some people don't like to talk about it. In Buffy's case, she might not even consider it a- an attack." The pale blonde stuttered.

"She doesn't- exactly. She told me she's not a victim, just had a weird kind of battle."

"That's okay. It's her right to- to do whatever she needs to, to feel better. As long as she doesn't hurt herself worse."

"Tara- what- what could someone do? If they had a friend they wanted to help, and they didn't know what to say?"

"Just be there. Offer a little comfort sometimes." Tara whispered.

"Okay. Okay. I can do that." Willow wrapped her arm protectively around her friend's shoulders. Tara snuggled right in and Willow sighed. That feels just right. Just so right, she sighed inside as well.

"I'm glad Buffy has someone like you in her life." Tara smiled bashfully.

"She's a good friend. I hope she'll let me comfort her- i-if she needs it. She's always trying to be strong, you know? Slayer stuff. Sometimes I don't even know if I could help that side of her, or if I'm just good for the girl stuff. I don;t know if this one side or the other, or both..." Willow trailed off helplessly. " I mean, who comforts someone who's a superhero?"

* * *

><p>Buffy flopped over on her side, head on his shoulder. "Nice."<p>

"Very." They exchanged a look.

"I'm- I'm a disaster." Buffy looked at her sweating body and tangled hair, disheveled top and missing bottoms.

"That's how you know it was good." He grinned.

"In that case, I should look a hell of a lot worse." She grinned back.

Silence hung in the car for a moment.

"It was impressive." Spike tentatively wrapped his arm around her shoulders and watched in shock as she leaned into him more as she nodded her agreement, even though the second round, slower and more passionate, was done.

"Are we finished?" She asked quietly.

"If you'd like." He said casually.

"I should go." But she didn't move.

"Right." He remained motionless.

"It's late."

"For you daylight lovers, yeah."

Another short silence occurred, not uncomfortable, just ended it.

"Spike?"

"What, Luv?"

"Thanks for stopping when you saw me tonight."

"Well, I got what I came for, didn't I?" He rubbed her arm softly, just to show he wasn't making a cheap shot out of it.

"Yep, we both delivered." She understood.

Silence stretched again, no one moving, enjoying the feel of easy, satiated companionship. "You don't have to go. I don't know about you, but I'm starvin'." Spike mentioned nonchalantly.

"Hungry and horny, that's what slaying does to you. At least- what Faith said." Buffy winced at the mention of her enemy's name. "Not that I'm anything like that bitch." She mumbled angrily.

"Hurts doesn't it? That he didn't know?"

"Yeah. It hurt." She admitted quietly.

"If it makes you feel any better, Dru knew exactly what she was doin' with that Chaos Demon this last time. Didn't want me, knew it wasn't me, that time." He muttered bitterly, acid waves of pain churning in a stomach that no longer worked.

"No. No, it doesn't make me feel any better." Buffy sat up suddenly, furiously. "You know, you were faithful to her for over a century! What the hell did she want?"

Spike was comforted by the sentiment but he defended his lovely black swan, always."Hey! She was broken before I ever met her. An' your precious Angel did that."

"He fights every day to atone for his past." Buffy hissed, voice freezing.

"Yeah. Yeah, sure he does." Spike reached for a cigarette. "He loves to feel sorry for himself. He doesn't feel sorry for anyone else, Pet."

"Yes. He. Does." Buffy scratched out each word.

Spike gave up his search for a smoke, the urge suddenly passing him by. "Believe what you want, Luv. It's easier. Hurts less."

Buffy opened her mouth a few times and then stopped and laid back. "Yeah. You're right, it hurts less. It hurts less if you pretend she didn't know who she was with, right? You're the expert on pretending, Spike."

"Watch yourself, Slayer." Spike's eyes flashed. But only for a second before he laid back as well and closed his eyes. "What do you know about love anyway? What's three years of on and off compared to about a hundred and fourteen of constant, continual devotion?" He muttered bitterly.

Spike's eyes flew open when he felt her body lying itself slowly on top of his, her hands on his shoulders. "It's surprisingly still pretty painful." Buffy whispered. "And having your boyfriend say he loves the woman who's wearing your body while you're waiting to get executed by the people who try to run your life? That's pretty painful, too."

"I think no one's winnin' this contest, Slayer. Love's a bitch. Correction- I'm love's bitch." He laughed, a twisted, whining noise in his chest, full of resignation.

"Well- prepare to share your title, Spike." Buffy wiped at her eyes suddenly. "Because I'm right there with you."

"You're a fighter. You'll get through it. You won't get over it, but you'll get through it." He blinked up at the black ceiling and pretended he didn't know why it blurred.

"You're the expert." She laughed wetly. For a moment neither trusted themselves to speak. Again, Buffy mastered her tongue first.

"You know what?"

"Hm?"

"I think I prefer this." She gestured to their intertwined bodies. She smiled up at him, even though it was strained. "It's not painful." _Because I don't care enough for it to hurt, I guess._

"Nope. Quite pleasant." 'Course it wasn't painful. Love hurts, not this odds and sods shaggin' an' sympathy exchange. "Very pleasant." He stroked her hair back. "Nice, easy, no strings. Not big ones, anyway."

She jerked her head in one firm nod. "C'mon. Burgers. My treat."

"Then I'll give you another go round, Luv. _My_ treat." Spike agreed with a wink, and they helped each other up.

"Sex and food. It's a good deal."

"Yeah, all things considered." Spike scooted back into his jeans. "Just so long as no one mentions it."

With a smile, Buffy zipped her lips and slung her body into the front seat, ready to go ride into the night with her new- what was he-oh God. Her new -_ friend_?

* * *

><p><em>To be continued...<em>


	2. Chapter 2

**Unmentionable**

**by Sweetprincipale**

_A __sequel __to__ "__Uncontrollable__"__. Please __read __that __first, __or __this __won__'__t __make __much __sense. __Begins __about __a __week __after __the__ "__Uncontrollable__" __version __of __the __incidents __at __the __Lowell __House __in __Where __the __Wild __Things __Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Dedicated to ginar369, jaimee001, and Dreylin_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

**Part II**

"Buffy? Chocolate chip muffin-y goodness..." Willow sang and wafted the scent of a gooey muffin from the campus cafeteria towards her sleeping roommate.

Buffy sat up slowly, muscles feeling wonderfully relaxed, body feeling happily stress-free. "You are the best roomie in the universe, Willow Rosenberg." She sighed. "Now gimme!"

Willow laughed and sat on the edge of Buffy's bed, handing over the plate.

"To what do I owe breakfast- mmm, chocolate breakfast- in bed?"

" 'Cause you're the best. And I love you. We all love you. Really, there's nothing that could ever make us love you or value you less than we-"

"Oh no. Am I dying? Wouldn't I know if I was dying? Am I being expelled?" Buffy's eyes went comically wide.

"No! No, I just wanted you to know. I'm here for you. W-with chocolate."

"And I repeat- the best roomie." Buffy gave her a one armed hug and the dug into her muffin with a pleased moan. "That's good. That's like- sex good. I may have problems."

"With- sex?" Willow asked hesitantly.

"I meant chocolate. I don't know if it's normal to feel passionately in love with a food." Buffy mused, licking her fingertip.

"Chocolate has that affect on many. Myself included." Willow giggled and pulled out another plate from beside the bedside lamp.

"Glad I'm not alone in my addiction." Buffy giggled again.

Willow laughed, but this time it sounded hollow. "You're never alone. Seriously, we're always here for you."

"Ditto. Are you feeling Oz-missage?" Buffy asked, catching the hollowness in the tone, the sadness in her best friend's eyes.

"No. Well- always a little bit, but it's so much better. You helped me out there, and I want you to know that all the Scoobies want to help you. However you need it."

"Could you shove a grenade launcher down Adam's throat and make Riley less of an ass?" Buffy muttered.

"Working on it." Willow smiled. "You know- he had no right to say those things, make you feel that way about what happened at the party. It wasn't your fault."

"I know. Oh believe me- I know." Buffy savagely bit a chip from the muffin.

This was not the _Steel Magnolias_ moment Willow had anticipated and she floundered for a moment before she could speak again. "Are you coping?"

"I'd cope a lot a better if he'd stop glaring at me with that mouth full of wire." Buffy grumbled.

"Coping with what happened to you at the party." Willow said gently.

"Oh, yeah. Another day, another episode of 'life sucks when you're the Slayer' ickiness." She shrugged.

"I just wondered if you were depressed? A little bit? Maybe?"

Buffy considered. "No. No, I don't think I'm depressed. I'm mad and I'm sad about Riley. And I'm sad that it wasn't Angel if it had to be a vampire."

"But- but he would have lost his soul. And I thought you and Riley-"

Buffy cut her off with a wave of her hand. She should have known better to mention Angel. Angel was supposed to be in the past, and he was as big a jerk as Riley was for leaving- at least to their minds. Plus, the threat of Angelus. Spike got it. She'd save wishing for lost lovers with him, President of the I'm Love's Bitch club. "Yeah, Wills, you're right. It was just if I had to pick, I wouldn't have picked Spike."

"I know. I know, a-and you had to do stuff with him and that could make you feel angry or depressed. You're sleeping in a lot later."

"A lot of activity on patrol this week." Buffy shrugged. "I promise. I am not depressed. Angry? Maybe. Frustrated with the events of the possessed party from psycho repressed sex-hell? You bet. But I'm not depressed and I'm not sleeping a lot because it drained my battery."

"Good. You're so strong, Buffy." Willow praised.

Buffy smiled wanly. "You know I'm not. I'm just doing my sucky job."

"You do it with way less suckage than any other slayer in the history of slaying. Kudos."

"I'd rather have another muffin." Buffy giggled.

"I love you to death, but I'm not sharing." Willow took a huge bite of her own and Buffy laughed as her friend's cheeks bulged. When Willow swallowed, she coughed out, "There's a counseling group on campus."

"For chocolate addiction? Why would I want to be counseled for that? I want to embrace my dark side."

"No! Dummy." Willow gave her a playful shove. "For - victims. Survivors. Survivors is the word, not-not victims."

Buffy's face glassed over for a moment. How could she explain this to anyone when Riley hadn't understood? No, forget that, he wasn't a good candidate for being explained to, anyway. "I'm not a victim, Will. Unless I choose to be one, I am not the victim."

"I know, I said the wrong thing and I-"

Buffy cut her off. "But people can label you one, and that won't happen to me. I won't let them."

"Even strong women have bad things happen to them." Willow whispered, taking her hand.

"Yeah, they do. But this is tricky. Sleeping with Spike- bad. Because I didn't choose him for a partner. Sleeping with Spike- good." Buffy blushed and toughed it out. "Because he made it feel good, okay? It didn't hurt, and I wasn't 'victimized' by him. If I ever wanted to go to a group, what could I say? 'A house full of restless horny teen spirit energy paired me up with a fabulous sex partner and made me have wild sex for a few hours'?"

"Ummmm..."

"No. No one can help me deal with it, and I don't need to deal with the event, Wills, I need to deal with the fallout, which is that Riley is a shitty boyfriend and now looks like a very butch version of Cher the day after surgery."

Willow didn't mean to laugh, but it burst from her.

"What?"

"Riley- as Cher?"

"Okay, well, pick a star, I don't care." But Buffy laughed slightly, too. "No one understands, Will, except- well, actually Spike understands. He's the only other person that went through it, and what could he do? Are you going to urge him to go to counseling, too?"

"I guess that wouldn't work so great." Willow admitted. "But you're more upset by the Riley thing than the- the other stuff?"

"Riley made me feel worse in ten minutes after, feel more guilty and used and- and dirty- in ten minutes than Spike, or even the house, did in the whole night." Buffy blinked angrily. "He never really knew me. That hurts worse. He slept with Faith because he thought she was me. He couldn't understand that this was sort of the same, getting a partner thrown at you and it not being something you can control?"

Willow scooted up the bed and hugged her. "Want Tara and me to hex him? We could give boils. Or warts. Or boiled warts, or warty boils."

Buffy laughed again. "Please don't. I still have to look at him, and that would just gross me out."

"Okay. No warty boils. Unless I keep them under his clothes so you can't see them?" She offered excitedly.

"Willow!" Buffy cried.

"Sorry, sorry." Willow raised her hands in surrender, then lowered them to her lap where she stared unseeing at them. "I just want to help. I don't know what to do, because you're my hero. And my best friend. When you hurt, it hurts on so many levels."

"You could just keep bringing me chocolate? Oh, and doing this thing where you listen to me and talk to me and make me feel like I'm not alone."

"This is good? This is what you need?"

Buffy paused before nodding. It was some of what she needed. The softer surface angers and woes got taken care of. The harder, more bitter, deeper down grief and fury- that needed someone who really understood the burden of being a little above average in terms of what you were able to do, supposed to do, with your life. Or death...

"What about Spike?"

"What? What- what about him?" Buffy started, wondering if her subconscious had been broadcasting her thoughts, because they were full of him at moments like this.

"He's a jerk but he was there as an innocent v- um- bystander, just like you. Do you think he even feels like it was wrong, like it was tough to go through?"

"He feels how I do. It was like any other battle you'd hate, but had to fight. Except more naked and pelvic." Buffy's cheeks colored at the memory. "We're both fighters, good or bad. We did what we had to, we got out alive- or undead at least, and we're not making a big thing about it."

"Yeah. And hey, common ground. Maybe he won't be so 'grrr!' now that he's had this experience of shared ickiness with you."

"Maybe. I don't know. If I see him around, I'll ask him how he's doing."

* * *

><p>"What are you doing?" Buffy hissed.<p>

"Goin' in the back!"

"You can't!"

"Evil! I do what I want."

"How am I supposed to get popcorn this way?" Buffy demanded, crouching with her pale blonde companion.

"You go out to the lobby after we get seats."

"But it's 1:00 in the morning. They're going to know I didn't buy a ticket, because there's going to be like six people in the whole theater!"

"Do you want to see the classic kung fu epic, _Blood Fists of Honor_, or not, Slayer?" Spike stood up in the midst of the bushes growing along the back of the theater, hands on his hips, looking annoyed.

"Really leaning towards 'or not' right now. What else is playing?" Buffy started back towards the front of the theater.

"I thought the issue was sneakin' in without payin'!"

"It is... but what else is playing?"

"I refuse to sit through _Amelia and Her Magic Petticoat_, or whatever soddin' chick flick you wanna torture me with."

"Talk about torture- why do you want to sit and watch a two hour movie with Japanese subtitles?"

"Hullo! Blood, violence, fight scenes every three minutes." Spike looked at her as if she was terminally idiotic.

"Oh, and that's not torture for you? You can't go and attack anyone anymore."

"I can! Jus' not anyone human." Spike said haughtily, turning his back.

"Why are we even doing this?" Buffy moaned, following him.

"Because seven fifty per ticket is a bleedin' rip off!"

"No! No, why are we at a movie together?"

"I think it was the part where you said 'I wanna go see a movie and let my brain vegetate.' As if it needed that." He muttered darkly.

"I went to three college classes today and started a paper, plus slayage. What did _you_ do?" She asked with false sweetness.

"Er- I watched _Passions_ on telly."

"I rest my case."

"It has a very complex story line, Slayer!" Spike protested angrily.

"Oh yeah. Drama, puppet, drama, who's sleeping with who, drama again."

"Don't you mock my-"

Buffy interrupted with a flail of her slender hands. "Oh, and on top of the courses and the typing and the killing evil? My own little soaps moment. I had to have a big heart to heart with Willow this morning about why I didn't need counseling. Well, the heart to heart part was okay, the explaining why I don't need to go to a support group was-"

"Wait. Support group? Counseling? Slayer-" Spike lost his angry posturing. "Thought you were- doin' all right?"

"I am. I really am." Buffy said quickly, stepping closer to him. Unthinkingly, her hands went out to his arms, just like his did to hers, grasping each other at the elbows, expressions of urgency on their faces. "I told her I'm good. I'm more mad at Riley than anything."

"Git." He said savagely.

"Totally. What's a git?" Buffy cocked her head like a puzzled puppy.

"Trust me, it fits him." Spike smiled faintly, and released her arms. He stepped back. "Sorry."

"No big." She let go of him with a confused rush of heat in her chest. "Willow asked me if you were okay. Said I'd ask."

"That's a sweet girl, you know that. Real sweet girl. Tell her I'm jus' fine. Why is it she doesn't she have a fellow?" His brow creased as if trying to recall.

"She did. Remember Oz?"

"Wolfy?" Spike's face cleared as realization dawned.

"Don't call him that." Buffy warned

"Okay, Oz, the Wonder Wolf, what happened? You didn't have to slay him, did you? Your life just keeps gettin' better."

"I didn't slay him! He went away to learn how to cope with the problem. He didn't want to hurt Willow."

"Noble. 'Cept for the fact it gutted her."

"Yeah. These noble men and their efforts to give us happy, normal lives." Buffy's face twisted bitterly as sarcasm rolled off her tongue. "See, look how happy and normal we are." She crossed her arms and stalked off, away from the theater completely, heading towards a vacant lot.

"Best stick to ignoble bastards like m'self then." Spike caught up to her, and laid a hard hand on her shoulder.

She whirled and frowned- and read the simple acceptance in his eyes. He wasn't trying to be cute, or funny, or even mock her. Just tell her the truth. She wasn't going to have happy or normal, not with Angel, not anymore. "Guess so." She murmured- and snagged him, pulled him against her, kissed him hard and fast.

Spike jerked back in surprise after she released his mouth. "Not in the mood for the cinema just now, Slayer?"

"My brain still hurts." She admitted, panting, wiping her wet lips on her palm.

"'Cause you've had the poor thing in top gear all day. Time to let the body take over." He ran a single finger seductively across her chin and down her chest, between her breasts.

"Your car?" She looked for it in the dark streets surrounding them.

"My_ crypt_. No rushing." He said with a severe tone, smile malicious and warning.

Oddly enough, she didn't feel even a prickle of apprehension. Weird. Spike wouldn't hurt her- not under these circumstances. "Okay. Let's go." She said determinedly.

"Well, well. Girl's got moxie." Spike offered her his elbow with a smirk, tongue tucked behind teeth.

Buffy hesitated and then took the arm he held out. What the hell? "Oh. Hey, you're old-"

"Oh, lovely manners, Slayer." He rolled his eyes.

"What's moxie?" She chirped and pulled him in the direction of Restfield.

"I'm gonna have to talk to Rupes about you. 'What's a git, what's moxie'. Blimey, you'd think in four years he could've taught you some vocabulary."

"He did. Slay. Dust. Beheading. Holy water..." She trailed off, a stake suddenly twirling in her free hand.

He couldn't conceal his impressed expression or tone. "Oi! Where'd you get -"

"Spike, I'm surprised at you." She pouted playfully. "Didn't they teach you anything at Vampire School?" She mocked him in a play on his own words from last night.

"You're gonna get it, Missy." He growled into the darkness.

"I know. I'm looking forward to it." She admitted, voice even.

"Good. Remember one thing-" Spike pushed her gently in front of him, and walked close behind her, running his hands lightly along her body from shoulders to waist, "no rushing this time." He smiled when he felt her shiver.

Buffy followed Spike inside his crypt after their near silent walk, which, thanks to their powers, only took a few moments. "I love what you've totally not done with the place." She quipped.

"Gimme time an' a little cash, Luv, you'll be comin' round just to enjoy the ambience." He went to the fridge in the corner. "Whiskey or blood?"

"A big neither, thank you." Buffy wrinkled her nose and looked around the dark stone home.

"Suit yourself. Whiskey's decent. Jack?"

"Still a major no. Alcohol and Buffy do not mix."

"Right you are then." He microwaved a plastic container and threw his duster over a coffin. Heading back to the microwave, he peered at the digital timer and proclaimed, "Thirty seconds an' I'll be good to go. For hours." He grinned wickedly.

She knew that full well, so she didn't say anything, had no joke to make. "Where's this awesome basement bachelor pad?"

Spike's face creased and eyes narrowed. "It's not a bachelor pad." He walked to the rear center of the room and pushed back a heavy stone slab, revealing a dark, dimly lit cavern and a ladder. "I don't tom cat around." He stood up with an angry jerk and went to the microwave, yanking it open hard enough to rock it forward. "Sod it!" He caught the blood before it tipped over.

Buffy's hand on his shoulder startled him and he barely bit back a yelp. Damn girl, he was gettin' used to her presence, he'd stopped tracking her once she was in the room. No point. She wasn't there to hurt him anymore.

"I know you don't. That was probably-" What could she say? 'That was probably the bedroom you wanted to share with Dru, sorry about that?' "That was probably a really stupid thing for me to say."

"Nah. I got the looks for it, I guess." He moodily downed his blood and tossed the plastic container into a brown paper bag full of other similar containers and cigarette packets. "I figured my girl deserved the best, you know? Kill for her, fight for her, steal her pretty things. Do anything for her. Made a deal with _you_, didn't I? To get her away from Angelus, away from gettin' sucked into the mouth of hell. Silly girl." He shook his head with a melancholy smile on his face. "She never got to see this, of course."

Buffy swallowed twice, trying to force the words she was about to say back down her throat- and failed. "She was lucky to have you."

Spike looked flummoxed and stared at her slack jawed. "Pardon?"

She groaned and put her hands to her face. "You'd do anything for her. You'd never leave to 'make her happy', without asking her opinion. You treated her like a princess, did everything she ever wanted, gave her what she needed. And she leaves? I'm sorry, she's a bitch." Buffy snorted contemptuously.

Spike was torn between gratitude, shock, and anger about the bitch comment. "Well- uh- thanks." He smoothed his hair nervously and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Welcome." Buffy mumbled, wishing her mouth had a zipper on it sometimes.

"You did all you could for my idiot grandsire. Gave him heart an' soul an' a lot of bloody chances he didn't deserve. Not to mention a moment of perfect happiness, an' you know that isn't too common, Pet."

"I didn't know making him happy would-" Buffy shrugged helplessly. "So then he leaves so I can be normal gal, with a normal future, all happy and smiley." Her eyes prickled and she shook her head harshly, clearing them. "I can't imagine why he'd wish that on me, look what it did to him." She whispered, head falling forward, lost in memories of chocolate eyes she'd probably never look into again.

This time it was Spike's hand on her shoulder. "C'mon. Give you the tour." He offered, and she willingly followed him down the ladder, pulling the slab across the opening as though it were a flimsy wooden door, not a hundred or so pounds of stone.

"Here we have a very nice piece, circa I don't give a bloody damn, made out of the finest I don't soddin' know." He gestured to the bed with a smile and tug on her hand. "But it's nice an' sturdy, an' gotta love these sheets, right?"

Buffy smiled in spite of herself, and ran both hands over the plush covers. "Wow. Tres' chic."

"Thank you very much." He came up behind her and leaned forward, letting her feel his hardness, feeling her own slight heat. Not nearly enough, he wanted her to soak for him, drip for him. "Time to put the ol' think tank in idle, Luv." He whispered. "Time to feel."

She let him push more, until she had hands and knees on the bed, and his arm was under her waist. With a final push, they toppled forward and sideways. No rushing, he'd said. Buffy didn't know what that meant right now. When they slowed down, they were usually talking about stuff, big heavy stuff, just because no one else got it and it felt better to let some of it go. Usually. Not rushing meant kissing, meant putting something close to affection in their actions. It scared her to think he might be making that a condition.

But he didn't kiss her. His hands were undoing buttons, and stroking each new inch of skin with his thumbs as they trailed down. "Relax. This is the foreplay part. I know you're new at actually havin' good sex, but try." He griped at her.

"What about no rushing?"

"Well, I'm not settin' any speed records, Luv." He remarked pointedly, showing her only half of her buttons were opened.

"When guys slow down it means-it means he wants you to feel something." She tried to explain.

"Yeah, it's called a multiple orgasm. You know, not just once an' over with? I mean, we could, but what's the point in that? The sex is the best bit." Spike shook his head at her folly.

Buffy relaxed further. "I meant feel something like- feelings. Not physical ones, emotional ones."

"What? Oh no. We're not doin' that, we were very bloody clear on that an' we're not changin' the rules." Spike sounded aghast and half sat up. "I don't want your heart- unless it's a 'plucked from your chest and raised above my head still beating' type of thing."

"I'm so messed up, I find that really comforting." Buffy laughed ruefully.

"You're smarter than the rest of the saps out there, Slayer. You an' me? We already gave the heart away, one owner, no trade ins."

"Amen to that." She reached up for his shoulders and brought him back over top of her. "Sorry, I'm just still kinda wigged from Riley. He didn't understand that me never telling him I loved him mean- hello to the obvious- that I didn't want to tell him I loved him."

"Boy's brain damaged, Pet. Forget him."

"I'd love to. A little help?"

"Try a bit bigger..." Spike led her hand to his straining zipper.

"Oooh. Yep, supersized help." She bit her lip and smiled up at him, finding him smiling down on her. And it wasn't complicated. They were about to make all the pain stop and it was going to feel wonderful. Why would she rush that?

She had an adorable little mouth, and it belonged around something of his. That was the problem with the car, no proper space to please each other in an oral manner. Well, a big bed in a well insulated cavernous place was just the ticket. "You're gonna scream, Luv. Gonna let you outta your cage an' you can howl like you want." He whispered in a husky voice, finishing with her shirt, letting her roll his up and over his head.

"Mmmhmmm." She smiled seductively, perfectly confident that she would, and that he'd be howling along under her.

"First things first though." His forefinger hooked under the front clasp of her bra and popped it open with a single deft flick. "There they are. Missed these." He rubbed her soft breasts with his palm and watched her ribs heave in sensation. "Problem with the car- feels like you gotta hurry an' you never get all your clothes off."

"Just have to put them back on." She blushed slightly when he looked right into her eyes, hands massaging and kneading her breasts, thumbs brushing the peaks. He was watching her. Watching her get aroused and she knew it was private, that Spike shouldn't be watching it- except that he should. Because she liked to watch the same thing happen to him. She reached up and popped open his button, then fumbled for the zipper.

"That's the wrong attitude. S'posed to enjoy having them off. 'Specially when you're so lovely to look at." He praised.

"You just called me lovely, you know that, right?" She asked with a worried frown.

"You are lovely, you twit." He snapped. "Stupid, yes, but pretty."

"You're such a jerk." She sighed, but with barely any venom. His insults were hard to take to heart when his hands were doing such delectable things to her body.

"I know. The best aren't I?" He asked snarkily, a saucy smile brightening his features, making her laugh in spite of herself.

"A ten on the pain in my ass scale."

"And what a pretty piece of-"

"Spike!" She glowered up at him, and he fell silent. Then he just plain fell, on to his side, bringing her to face him, hands all over her chest and back, bringing them slowly, slowly closer together.

She was so close, so intoxicating, all that blood rushing along under the skin and the wetness starting to seep out, make her ready, properly ready to take him all the way home to a hot pink paradise. That little pink mouth panted up at him in surprised pleasure, like she hadn't known just teasing and fondling her breasts could make her writhe inside.

She whimpered and wished she hadn't. "Sorry." He breathed, and slid his hands down to rest on her slim hips.

"Not painful. Good." She whispered back. God, he was too close like that. Blue eyes so dark with long black lashes, and those high sharp cheekbones framing a sensuous, half open mouth. A mouth with a tongue darting out to kiss her. Oh, what the hell, it didn't have to mean anything, it would just give her lips something to do.

Spike planted a kiss, wet, open, and probing between her breasts and then on each taut peak, sucking all the pink skin surrounding her bud into his mouth each time. He looked up at her to see her reaction and saw her mouth closing in a puzzled snap. _Oh, missed the signal. She was goin' for the mouth an' I went a bit too low. Doesn't have to mean anything. We're already goin' slow, don't mind givin' my mouth somethin' to do 'til I need it to suck her honey from the hive._

"Such a sweet, yummy, treat." He raised himself up, and pulled her right to his chest this time.

"Spike..." She knew he saw that, that fumbling, half expected kissing motion. "I-"

"Shhh. Doesn't mean anything to you, does it? Not if I kiss your sweet little pussy, then your sweet breasts? Why not your mouth?"

"You don't have to, I misread the signal from the coach, okay?"

"Can I if I want to?" He propositioned.

"Uh-huh." She went limp in his arms and let him kiss her softly, still nice and deep, a sex kiss, not an "I love you" kiss. So she kissed him back, pushing her tongue in his mouth, and trying not to make a total fool of herself by moaning when his hand wormed its way down to her waistband and worked inside.

"Take this off." He grunted, yanking the corduroys roughly.

"You too." She gestured to his jeans. He nodded, then rolled back onto her, kissing as hands and elbows tangled and jabbed. Four clunks of various loudness sounded as shoes and boots flew off and hit the wall beside the bed.

"Wow." Spike had stood up to finish sliding the jeans over his ankles and he got a good view of her in all her glory, with clear eyes this time. Not the cramped confines of the car or the lust haze of the Lowell House. She was a fetching little beauty, all gold and tan and pink. Like a gilt cherub.

"More wow." Whoa. Spike standing up was- impressive. All muscular ridges and definition and- a really big surprise in the middle. "You aren't that tall."

"I'm five eleven!" He cried indignantly, shucking his foot free of its black sock.

She shook her head quickly, "Spike-"

"Oh, fine, I'm five ten." He admitted. "Gotta remember, Luv, in my time, people in the cities were all a bit smaller. Not like your big cornfed prairie boy or Captain Forehead with his roomy Irish estate to expand in."

"You've got a bigger cock than I thought you'd have. Bigger than- certain other- taller people." She mumbled in explanation, blushing at hearing herself use that particular word, voice that particular thought. "Which, obviously I knew, but-" She lost her train of thought as he sauntered to her, up on the bed, prowling now. "Uh, seeing it-" She lost her voice now, because it was so close, right in front of her chest as she half reclined and he knelt, absolutely devilish smirk on his face.

"Seein' it up close an' personal? In the light, such as it is?" He purred.

"Something like that." She murmured.

"Well- it's yours to play with." He opened his hand magnanimously in the area of his navel. "Do what you want to do- an' remember. _No. Rushing._"

"I know, I know. I got it." Buffy leaned up and licked her lips, feeling a wave of wantonness flooding her. She had liked the way he'd tasted. She shouldn't have the first time, but she had, and she wanted more. And it was so nice to just get what she wanted, no strings attached.

"You want to go first or second?" Spike watched her leaning towards his erection, disbelieving and yet not too much. It was part of the good sex experience, somethin' the poor girl had been starved for. Somethin' he'd been starved for himself, truth be told.

"First." She said with sudden decisiveness. She grabbed his wrist and pulled him to his back, then slowly laid her head on his thigh. _Enjoy. Don't rush. Not something to do before sex, something to do because it's so good, because it_ is_ sex._

Spike hated his eyelids right then. He wanted to watch the show, watch the mightiest slayer of all time, so they said, bobbing her golden head on his stiffy. And instead, one delicate, hesitant flick of her tongue on his crown and his eyes rolled up and the lids came down. "Yesssss." He hissed in a long drawn out sigh, hands going to her shoulders, then one slid to the nape of her neck, and the other cradled her head. "Ohh, yesss."

Buffy lazily swallowed him down, lapping and tasting like she had nothing else to do for the rest of the week. She tasted him like he was her favorite popsicle ever, examined him like he was her personal anatomy guide. He was different than Riley, the only one she'd shared this with prior to Spike. His veins were bluish white on an alabaster length, everything was bundled up hard and tight and stiff- she guessed dead muscles hardened more, maybe that was why he seemed so ripped...

"So much warmer... God, so much warmer." He shuddered in her mouth but didn't release. Buffy pulled off of him and smiled.

"Say it." She teased.

"No." Spike gave her an obstinate glare.

"I'll stop..."

"Bloody bossy cow." He muttered. "Fine..." He gave a dramatic sigh and then eased his features into a sarcastic smile."You're the Slayer." He praised her with begrudging enthusiasm, with a cheering punch at the air.

"That's right, and don't you for- hey!" Buffy found herself rolled under him in a sudden tackle. "Hey, I was going to do more." She protested.

"Take you up on it soon." He grinned. "Just thought I'd give you a chance to answer that age old question, 'Who's the vamp?"

"You sure you wanna risk that? You know what answer I'm going to give." Buffy warned, only half joking.

Spike looked at her with a small, grim smile. "I like a challenge." He whispered, and coiled his body around hers. He moved like an erotic cobra, weaving from her right to left and back, over and over, kissing and licking and biting her skin from lips to hips, never going down to the pouting pink slit that begged for him. No, he'd wait, until he heard _her_ beg for him.

Okay, maybe she had been wrong, maybe Spike _was_ trying to hurt her, Buffy thought as she writhed, half turning with him, desperate for more of his touch. Because driving a person to the brink of insanity was hurting, right? And neglecting her endlessly lifting, hinting hips, that was torture, wasn't it?

Spike's frame stiffened at a muted whimper, and his eyes raised worriedly. They didn't remain worried, they became knowing when he looked at her flushed cheeks and desperate eyes. "Havin' a nice time, Slayer?"

"Yes. But-" She swallowed the rest of her words and laid back. She would not, could not ever imagine in a million years asking for what she wanted. Not her. Not from him.

"But what?" He purred, nipping gently on her inner thigh, high up, so he could almost taste her. It was torturing him, too, but he- well, he'd had his fair share of torment and he knew how to wait.

"Nothing."

He smirked where she couldn't see him, and started kissing in neat lines at the seam of her thigh and crotch, tonguing lightly, butterfly teases, never moving to the sweetness in between. He hummed contentedly, as though he could do this for days and never tire, never move on.

"Spike!" Buffy finally cried in exasperation.

"What, Slayer?"

"Just- are you- are you sure you're not taking this 'no rushing' kick a little far? 'Cause I do have to leave sometime this century."

"Well, what'd you want me to do, Luv?" He rested his chin on her soft patch of curls, chin just above her pleasure center but purposely not letting it touch.

Damn him. Damn him more than he already was, with the whole being a demon thing. "Get on with it."

"I will, Slayer." He resumed his slow burning kisses on her lower torso. "Soon as I hear that you want it..."

"Isn't it pretty obvious?" She groused.

"Part of being a good lover is asking for what you want."

"I'm not your lover." She reminded him sharply.

"Then consider it a tip for the next bloke who is." He lightly pinched her thigh with his blunt teeth.

"Spike!"

"It doesn't have to be a formal request. Just a little encouraging word or two." He went on as if she hadn't interrupted. He stopped speaking and picked up where he'd left off.

She would just have to stake him later, for being so damn frustrating. His lips finally gently grazed her clit, almost accidentally, as he made his torturous circuit. It undid her just enough, as she was sure he'd knew it would. "Please." She wedged one leg farther over, making the invitation obvious.

"Of course, Pet. All you had to do was ask." He deadpanned.

She couldn't even stay mad at him, not after the first millisecond. He ate her, drank her, like he was starving and she was every food he'd ever craved. He didn't have a right or wrong filter either. If he wanted it, he tried it, licking her outside, inside, using fingers in conjunction, biting, sucking, making her tremble and lose track of every coherent thought.

"You know what I want to hear..." He laughed up at her gently, eyes mischievous, one finger toying with her, thrusting enough to make her feel the orgasm building but not let it free. And he knew it, of course he did, he could read the pulsing around his digit clear as a book.

"Spike, so help me-"

"I will, Slayer, I will. Help you plenty. Now. Who's the vamp?" She struggled with herself but didn't speak. With another little smirk he lowered his mouth for a final assault on her swollen nub.

"God, yes. God, yes!" She keened and shuddered. Her hips worked themselves into a frenzy on his hand, and she moaned long and loud.

Spike waited until the frantic pulsing died to a twitch. "Another part of being a good lover is doin' what your partner needs, even if they didn't ask. Anticipate, yeah?"

Buffy stared down at him in awe. That was Spike talking? "That's- that's a really good tip." She breathed.

"Thanks." He shrugged. He hadn't heard what he wanted to hear. He had stopped wanting to hear it quite suddenly, when he saw that agonized look cross her face, when he realized that he never said she was the "woman" or the "lover", just the slayer. He wasn't comparing her to his raven haired beauty, queen of his heart. But he was asking her to compare him to Angel, to a it'd be a betrayal for her. Besides, he bloody hated being compared to that idiot anyway. He didn't bring her to bed to make her heart ache. Enough of that going around without him adding to it.

"Could you come up here?" She murmured, and he automatically did, eyes faded to a faraway place inside himself. No. Not what she wanted to see. Someone so unselfish, so generous to her was hiding under those eyes. Spike in bed... what a concept. "Can you keep a secret?"

"A whole damn bunch apparently." He gestured to their reclining forms.

She licked her lips and gulped. "This is a big secret. Unrepeatable, okay?"

"Okay." He didn't know whether to frown or smile. Sharing yet more confidences with the sworn enemy turned shag buddy? Strange days...

"You're the vamp." She breathed in his ear, not looking at him.

His eyes went wide."You don't really have to-"

"Do what your lover wants without being asked, right?" She met his eyes with a hesitant smile.

He traced it with a thumb as his own grin returned. "You learn fast. Prob'ly why you're so bleedin' hard to kill."

"That's right." She laughed softly, and waited for him to make the next move.

It was verbal, not physical. "Why?"

"Why?"

"Why'd you say it? I'm not the one you want, an' I get it, believe me, 'cause you're not who I want either, no offense."

"None taken." She sighed and then shrugged. "I think I said it because- I meant it. Because you gave something to me without making me beg. You really are good to your -women, lovers, whatever." She shook her head in slight puzzlement, realization murkily coming to her. "I don't think I ever had that. Not like this. So- you're the vamp."

"Well, look at us," Spike said after a moment of silence where he firmly shoved his stupid nancy side back in its box before it could get sappy, "just findin' out all kinds of things this week."

"Yeah. Guess we are." She shivered slightly in the coolness of the underground room, and he pulled the covers to the side, motioning for her to get under, and he followed suit.

"Wanna know somethin' else, Slayer?"

"Sure." She watched with sleepy, content eyes as he moved her body slightly, pulling them into position, him on top, languid and sinewy, like a lazy tiger ready to devour- as soon as it felt like it.

"You can ask for whatever makes you feel good." He said with utter gravity, looking into her eyes.

"You said that." She whispered, returning the gaze.

"I know. Here's the next bit. I'll always give it to you."

Something inside her melted, a hard piece of her heart she didn't even know had turned to stone. "Thanks."

"No worries."

"Same here." She decided.

Spike quirked his eyebrow. "You sure about that? I'm a sick an' twisted man, Luv, could ask for any number of nasty little things."

"I know." She winced comically. "But seriously- you don't try to make it bad- I know that. You could have, you had your shot, and you didn't. So I-"

"Don't you dare say you trust me, Slayer, or I'll boot your ass upstairs an' out my door." He threatened.

"I was going to say, 'So I think I can return the favor'. Defensive much?" She rolled her eyes.

"Comes with the century of people tryin' to set you on fire." He laughed once. "Good deal, Slayer."

She pushed her fingers into his neck, kneading, bringing him lower, so she could seal the deal with a kiss, a mutual understanding kiss. Time to practice this good lover stuff, test the theory. "I want you inside me." She murmured against his parting lips.

"I want to be inside you." He bit the soft corners of her mouth as he took possession of it.

"This might work out." She giggled suddenly, softly.

"Let's see." He chuckled as well, dark and low.

God it was so good, so perfect. Her slickness sheathed him and he filled her completely. "Yes. Yes, God, I can actually _feel_ something with you!" Buffy panted in bliss.

Spike drove in harder. "That's right. That's right, feel it, give it back."

"Oh, I will, fuck yes, I will." She groaned.

"Naughty little mouth on you, don't y-mmm!" Spike found himself silenced by a bruising, biting kiss. "Ohhh, Slayer." He snarled in a sexual spasm when she let him go. "That's the way I like it."

"Told you. I'll give you want you want."

And she did. Numerous times, in various ways, until they were wearing each other out and the bed lay forgotten in favor of ravaging one another on the less breakable floor.

Spike looked up at her, covered in a sheen of sweat and light grit on her shoulders, pumping him in and out of her swollen, flushed cleft, riding him with an exhausted, determined look on her face. "That all you got?" He challenged.

"Bring it." She laughed breathlessly, and found herself sprawling gracelessly around him as he sat up, crossing his legs under hers. She wordlessly wrapped her arms around his shoulders, sitting on his lap. She clung to him and he took her from underneath, brutally, but not hard enough to hurt. So gloriously fulfilling. "You're good."

"Workin' with the best." He grinned, flagging slightly.

"You stop now- and I- win." She panted, posting on his cock like a horsewoman at the canter.

"Not-stoppin'." He grunted out. "You don't- win. Got years on you. Don't need to breathe. Soon you're gonna want a break and I'm- the winner."

"Not ever. Never." She let her head slump on his in a sudden tidal wave of exhausted pleasure. "Well- maybe- a little." She gasped in his ear.

"No. No, you don't quit yet. Got one more, Pet." He bit down on her shoulder and slammed into her hard and fast.

"Thought you wanted me to- ooooh God! Spike, God, yes!" She convulsed and he exploded in time with her.

Spike listened to the sounds of them, barely aware of anything, in a haze of blood red passion and feeling like he'd just gone three rounds with a mob. Her gasps and frenzied moans were higher than his deep snarls and grunts. But they sounded nice together.

Buffy fell backwards, laying down on the cold stone and not caring. Not caring a bit that she was spread eagled and flushed and her hair looked like a bat had nested in it. "You killed my legs." She giggled.

"My own as well." Spike tried to stand and settled for falling forward on top of her.

"No, stop, you win, you win!" She laughed and shoved his shoulders.

"I wasn't startin' again, I can't feel my legs, an' that's damn impressive for a bloke with no circulation to start."

"So- do I win?"

"No. _Bint_." He glared and took a bite at her breast, just for kicks. "It was a draw. This time."

"Oh good. 'Cause-" Buffy pushed him off and slowly, painfully sat up, "I really would hate it if you won."

"You know- you're just plain selfish. You win all the time, you're the soddin' good guy." Spike stretched and stood as well. "Could let the baddies win every now an' again."

"In your dreams. Oh- do vampires dream?"

"Of course we do! What are they teachin' you, anything?"

"Not this again." She let out a long-suffering groan.

"No, I'm serious, I'm about to write a nasty letter to these Watcher blokes and ask if they ever met a vampire, or did they just read the Anne Rice novels."

"Spike, that's such-" Buffy climbed onto the bed with an exasperated expression which slowly changed, "such a really stupid idea, but if you do it- can I get a copy of the letter?"

"Sure thing, Pet." He flopped down beside her on the bed. "Well, the bed survived."

"Hallelujah. I really didn't want to put "try to carry a new bed down a hole into a crypt basement" on my to do list." She grinned tiredly.

"Carried it through the tunnels, not down the hole. Lord, woman, you've got an aim like a guided missile, spatial relations skills of supernatural origin- an' you think I got a flamin' bed through that tiny little hole in the ceiling?" Spike demanded incredulously.

"You- you-" Buffy blushed. Well duh. Of course he didn't fit the huge bed down a hole that was barely big enough for a human body. She felt stupid. And angry. "_You!_"

Spike blinked. "I don't think that's an insult, Lov. Not a proper one."

Buffy gave up and sank back, eyes closed and arms thrown across them. "I know. I used to be meaner, before we had this- thing."

"Yeah, I know. An' I shouldn't jab at you- 'cept for bein' evil an' it's kinda my job. But I know you're exhausted." He cautiously put his arm near hers, open, a silent gesture that she could come to him again if she wanted.

"Oh screw it." Buffy slid against him, savoring the feel of cooler skin on her own overheated epidermis. She closed her eyes and tried to pretend- and it failed this time. Damn. Now she knew it was Spike, really did. The cool skin and hard muscle trick didn't work anymore. She knew his smell, the texture, even the skin tone. "Holy crap." She muttered.

"What?" Spike sat halfway up, looking for signs of trouble, but she didn't move. He reclaimed his position, looking at her in confusion. "What's the deal?"

"I know your body. Better than his."

Spike snorted. "You surprised?"

"Guess not." She murmured. No, she supposed she shouldn't be. One night of lovemaking- really only the one time, but it had been so long, so perfect, it had seemed like a beautiful forever. And now it seemed so quick. One, small, part of one small night.

"He was all regulation, Slayer, what'd he do, two positions, lights off, an' salute afterwards? 'Course you know me better in a week than you do Soldier Boy. We're good at this, we-"

Buffy picked her head up and gave him a completely stupefied look. "Not Riley, you idiot! Angel!" She cried.

"Oh." Spike shut his mouth- but only for a second, as was typical. "Well even more so, you daft thing."

"What?" Buffy demanded an edge in her voice, and fire in her eye as she propped herself up on an elbow.

Spike mirrored the gesture, unconsciously placing his hand on her hip as he spoke quickly. "Obviously you're gonna know my body better than Angel's, you had one night of the flesh to flesh with him- unless I'm mistaken?" He quirked his brow.

"You're not." She said firmly.

"And knowin' the souled bastard, he wouldn't have let you two start anything you couldn't finish, so I'm guessin' you had a very frustrated few months of kisses?"

"Get to the point, before I get to a point- a sharp, wooden one." Buffy said through clenched teeth.

"We've had more skin time. You know my hide better than his. Point made." Spike frowned petulantly. Buffy sulked away from him, inside herself, although sill close to him. It annoyed him. Reminded him what a little diva she could be. "Oh, an' where do you get off shoutin' at me 'cause I assume you're talkin' about the most recent ex? I thought you an' the King of Poofdom were all hearts an' deepness, didn't think I'd hear you say much about his 'body'." Spike made air quotes and then joined her in the silent moodiness.

Her voice was softer and not at all harsh when she broke the silence. "Riley and I broke up. You're right. I should be thinking about that, it was horrible and it was violent- and it hurt." She looked up at the ceiling with empty eyes, ignoring that Spike was watching her with full ones, cobalt eyes alive with curiosity and interest. "So why?" She finally turned to him, expert of the broken hearted.

"Why what, Pet?" He asked in a gentle tone that surprised his own ears.

"Why can I only think of Angel leaving me? Why don't I care too much about what happened with Riley?"

Spike sighed softly at the stupidity of people who tried to think with their heads and not their hearts. Love wasn't logic, it was blood and heart and dirty, messy, painful-ecstasy. You didn't have to make it fit with the circumstances. "Because, Slayer," he explained in a tone of exhausted patience, "you loved Angel. Not Soldier Boy."

Buffy swallowed the lump in her throat but it came right back. Stupid little things triggered it- realizing she knew her idiot, evil enemy's body better than the man she had loved so much she couldn't breathe without him. Okay, maybe not so little. She tried to explain, to justify- and completely unexpected words came out. "He swore he'd never leave me, that he'd always come back." She murmured, voice just barely short of tearful.

Another pause, another sigh. "Drusilla's my sire, Luv. She _made_ me. That's deeper than love - that's blood, that's immortal existence. It's forever. Dru an' me, we're eternal. At least," his tone hardened and embittered, "at least we were supposed to be." He blinked at something shining in his heart that had worked its way up to his eye. "And she's left me too. Funny." He laughed in a way to show just how very un-amusing it was, "At one point they left both of us for each other, when I was in that damn wheel chair, but even if I hadn't been... she still would've, someday..."

She wiped her eyes like she was just moving hair off her forehead. "Tragedy abounds. Go us. What's that got to do-"

Spike interrupted her passionately. "Because, Slayer, all we get is broken promises, don't you see that? 'I won't leave, I'll come back, we're eternal, we're forever.' _Bull. Shit_." He curled his lips in a feral snarl of anger and loss, body starting to move from hers, flames starting to dance in his eyes. "Better not to promise a damn thing, unless you can deliver it the next moment an'_ know_ you can keep your goddamn, _fuckin'_ _WORD_!" He'd picked up one of the lit candles that gave out dull light in the crypt and hurled it against the wall. It shattered with a spark and hot wax flying, like so much passion burnt out or torn away.

Buffy watched in awe as pale shoulders quivered soundlessly. He wasn't crying, but she wouldn't blame him if he had been. No, he was just holding a long, long time of pain inside, and she understood that. Understood that it was always under the surface, and sometimes it came close to tearing you apart.

"Spike?"

He looked behind him, watching her sit up as he sat on the edge of the bed.

"I promise I can make it feel better- if you can make me feel better?" She offered in a quietly pleading, oddly comforting voice.

He turned all the way around, finding her now close beside him. Her green eyes were glossy, like his own. He nodded once. "I can do that." He whispered, and wrapped himself around her once again.

* * *

><p>"Buffy! Buffy!" Willow waved to her best friend from her seat in the campus food court. Tara scooted over and made space for Buffy to sit beside Willow.<p>

"Hey guys." Buffy said cheerfully, putting her overflowing tray down in front of her. She sat down with a smile and tore into the food ravenously.

"You got in late. I didn't want to wake you this morning, but I'm glad I get to see you before we have dinner with Xander tonight." The redhead smiled.

"Yeah, me too." Buffy swallowed a considerable piece of sandwich and then smiled expectantly at her friends as she chewed.

"Uhhh." Willow had expected more of a response, but Buffy was smiling and eating and not looking miserable or worried, so all was okay with the world. "So, um, what'd you do last night?" She asked.

Buffy had a roller coaster of thoughts in a split second- athletic, explosively good sex, laughing, arguing, insulting, comforting, kissing, talking- keeping a promise. Feeling better. With Spike, in their secret survivors' pact.

"Oh, you know. Stuff." She shrugged and smiled into her smoothie. "Nothing worth mentioning."

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A __sequel __to__ "__Uncontrollable__"__. Please __read __that __first,__or __this __won__'__t __make __much __sense. __Begins __about __a __week __after __the__ "__Uncontrollable__" __version __of __the __incident s__at __the __Lowell __House __in __Where __the __Wild __Things __Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Dedicated to ginar369, jaimee001, Vera Snape- Evans, Searching-For-My-Reason, Sirius 120, DLillith21, and Dreylin_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part III

"I don't know how you do it. I mean, I didn't know how before, either, but now that I live it with it... Wow. I live with 'The Slayer'. I don't know how you do it." Willow and Buffy left the dorm room to head to their respective afternoon classes.

"UIhhh. Yeah." Buffy had no idea what her best friend was talking about.

"I skipped the main point again, didn't I?" Willow asked with an apologetic look.

"And I'm usually pretty good at figuring out Will-isms, but- yeah. I don't get this one." Buffy nibbled on her protein bar and looked at the redhead.

"I don't understand how you survive on only a few hours of sleep every night." Willow whispered. "Plus, you've been getting home later, but you're still hitting every class and writing papers. I'm so proud of you!"

Buffy blushed and mumbled. "No big." She was coming to bed later because she was trying to break the record for most orgasms achieved in a single night, apparently, and sleeping late because of that. Yet she did feel strangely energetic in spite of it, or maybe _because_ of it. But Willow didn't know and she wasn't about to tell her.

"Can we help?" Willow asked suddenly. "Patrols or- or mini patrols? What kind of nasties are out there right now?"

"No, Wills, it's not the baddies, it's-" Buffy paused and her brows drew together as she had a sudden realization. She had taken off a few hours early every night that week to go chill with her fellow member of the "love's bitch" club- but part of that was because she actually had the time and energy to even think about Spike and sex. Why? Because there wasn't much going on. She had maybe one or two good slays- and then her evening got freed up. Free for other, funner activities with a certain vampire who shall remain nameless and be staked later, she added in her head. Returning to the actual conversation she was supposed to be having, she said, "Something bigger than bad is going to start soon. And it's probably gonna be Adam."

"What?" Willow moved in closer.

"There's been almost _no_ demon activity." Buffy hissed and tried to push the thought of extremely vigorous activities she had with a certain demon from her mind before she got hot and bothered.

Willow looked puzzled, and stopped in her tracks. "But then, why have you-"

"Taking longer to- to- search. Make sure they aren't in some other part of town." Buffy quickly supplied. It was a lie, but it wasn't one she felt too bad about. After three springs in Hellmouth Central, you got the gist of things. Little evil only goes bye bye when big, big evil pushes it out of the way. "And for about a week now, it's been an occasional fledge or some lone weird vein eating demon."

"Eww." Willow rubbed her wrists suddenly at the thought. "So-time to get into battle strategy mode?"

"Yeah. I've been slacking, I should have noticed this a couple days ago." Buffy berated herself.

"You had a major thing happening. With the creepy sex spirits. A-and Riley, Prince of Poopheads. A-and Spike." Willow stuttered over the words in her haste to comfort her friend. "Don't feel bad. This is when we get our research on and make a plan and eat doughnuts. All of us together, we'll make a plan and kick Frankenbutt."

"Everyone should have one of you. My own personal motivational speaker." Buffy hugged her friend and then waited for any guilt to creep up her spine and remind her that she hadn't been totally honest. None came this time, like it had done with Angel, when she was hiding him. _I should feel guilty, I should feel worse than guilty, it's Spike, who I hate. Mostly. But I can't do it. Willow wanted me to go to a survivor's group- and I am. Love survivors. And, yeah, freaky sex puppet possession survivors, too, but that doesn't hurt anywhere near as bad as being left. And Willow would know that._

"You've got serious face." Willow pointed out as her laughter at Buffy's praise died away suddenly.

"Just thinking that Adam's not so easy to take on." She was half-truthful. That thought, amongst others, was plaguing her. "And without Riley..."

Willow's face hardened. "We don't need him. We never needed him before, we don't need him now."

"Will- we did need him and I- ruined things there, so-"

"You didn't ruin anything. Something happened to you. I know you don't think of yourself as a victim, so I won't either. But you had-a fight. Not the typical kind of fight, but it was something that could happen to anyone living in Demon Central. You got out of it alive and the winner, so that's what matters."

"I guess so. That's what I told him. He didn't like that." She sighed. "He'd be much happier if I had just staked Spike."

"Not that Spike doesn't deserve it, but it'd be like kicking a really obnoxious puppy with no teeth. You're a good guy. You don't do that." Willow hesitated and then asked, "Have you two bumped into each other since...?"

"I see him around." Buffy replied carelessly.

"Mondo awkward?"

"Not like you'd think." She turned to her friend as they began walking again, more hurriedly now. "You know how there are serial killers who like- keep baby bunnies and cry during long distance commercials?"

"Ummm. Sure?"

"Scary people have soft spots. Even some vampires. Even- and I guess we knew it all along- Spike. One of his is not- hurting women- in that way. Against their will. Something personal." Buffy said uncomfortably, no longer able to look at her friend. "I mean, if he thought they _wanted_ kinky, sadistic fun, I'm sure he'd be right there with the teeth and the claws, ready to roll. But I didn't, and he didn't like what we were doing. It's hard to believe, but I think he's upset as I am."

"I thought you said the sex was-"

"Oh, totally fantastic! But you know you're not with someone-" Buffy swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, "someone that you love. And you know first hand how he loved Drusilla."

"Stalker scary love. Yeah." Willow shivered.

"So I bump into him, and we- we don't pretend it never happened. It's more along the lines of when I needed his help to stop Angelus that time. We partnered up, we won, no killing, no harm, no foul."

"You really are brave, Buffy."

"You would have done the same thing. No-" She halted Willow's protest, "I know you would have. Oh, and I told Spike you were worried about him. He said you were a real sweet girl."

"He meant to drink. He's tried to vamp me up a couple times." Willow shivered again.

"Chipped puppy now. Oh, he's still bad, but-" She shrugged, "we have some common ground, and he's not all threaten-y when I see him.

The campus bell tower struck the hour and the girls exchanged a horrified glance. "I'm late!" Willow streaked off.

"Bye! Giles'? Tonight?" Buffy hollered after her.

"I'll bring Tara after we stop by the magic store!" Willow shouted back and waved.

"Good deal!" Buffy called and then put on a little slayer speed and rushed to her class.

* * *

><p>Class was a total waste of time. She couldn't remember anything the professor said and her notes were filled with the name Adam and a list of ideas about how to kill him. Every time the word Riley had managed to find its way to the page, it was violently crossed out. Spike's name appeared once or twice as well, with lots of question marks beside it. "Well, goody. My third grade language arts brainstorming skills are getting used. So much for college critical lit." She muttered to herself as she swung out of her seat. With a sigh and a stretch she walked to the library- and then kept right on walking.<p>

* * *

><p>Spike sat up suddenly in his battered chair, sleep interrupted by a barely noticeable little sound he perceived, just outside his crypt, just outside the range of normal ears. Visitors were not welcome, and Spike imagined he knew who his uninvited guest would be- Commando Boy or his buddies come to avenge the honor of the Slayer. Or more likely, his own wounded excuse for manly pride. Slayer didn't need avenging. If she wanted avenging, she'd have had him fertilizing the lawn by now. The sound was closer each second, and Spike vaulted over his chair and crouched behind it as his mausoleum door crashed open.<p>

Buffy cautiously poked her head inside. "Spike?"

"Slayer?" Spike stood up as if on springs and squinted in the shaft of sunlight. "Bloody hell, don't you knock?" He grouched and came out of hiding.

"Not really." Buffy shoved the door shut.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you- no, wait..." He gave her an evil smirk.

"Shut mouth, open ears." Buffy glared at him. "This isn't a social call."

"No, because that would have required manners, like knockin' on my soddin' door before burstin' in here!" He gave her a wounded look. "Scared me half to death."

"Too late, someone beat me to it." She rolled her eyes. "And that explains why you were cowering behind the chair like a big baby."

"How'd you like it if you knew a bunch of killers were on your tail?" He snapped.

"Uh- I kinda do. Remember? Demons, vampires?" She reminded him.

"But you can fight them. What am I s'posed to do when Mr. Regular Army brings his squad for a visit?"

Buffy gave him a wide eyed look. "Did they try to come in here? Are you okay?" She heard herself saying, right before her mouth could reconnect to her brain.

Equally shocked, Spike automatically replied, "No, I'm fine, I jus' know they're out for blood now. Or they will be. Once your ex's jaw knits back together, I'm sure he'll be givin' the order to dust yours truly for my part in Penthouse presents Poltergeist Theater." He laughed bitterly.

Buffy licked her lips and shook her head, knowing what she was going to say wasn't going to matter, that Riley in particular didn't care. "But you didn't hurt night. They shouldn't-" She felt frustration rising in her. So many things no one ever would understand, mainly because they didn't want to...

Spike sauntered to her, but stopped short of touching her. It was daylight and this wasn't their scene. So why did his hand decide to extend to her and end just shy of her suntanned arm? Why did his mouth decide to soften into a smile and say "No worries. They're always tryin' to kill me. Doesn't matter why, does it?"

Buffy nodded and shrugged. _It will matter. It'll matter because they'll make it hurt now, they won't just stake him and go. Because it's personal. Because they're too stupid to remember he can't hurt me, he couldn't have hurt me, because of what they did to him in the first place._ "If he wants to hurt someone, it ought to be me. He knows you weren't the predator and I wasn't the prey." She mumbled.

"Yeah, Slayer." Spike fished a smoke from the pack in his pocket. "But he won't hurt you. 'Cause you can hit back." He gave a dark, mirthless chuckle.

"Then that makes him the bad guy." Buffy's lips curled in disgust.

"Well, look who finally caught up." Spike snarked.

Buffy resisted the urge to hit him herself and settled for plucking the cigarette from his lips and smashing it under her cute white sandals.

"Oi!"

"You deserved that one." She said simply.

"Did not!"

"You so did."

"Oh for fuck's sake, did you come here to talk about ethics an' swipe my cigs or were you lookin' for a nooner? Couldn't wait until tonight, Pet?" He ran his hand down his tight fitting shirt, flexing his back to show his abdominal muscles to the best advantage. He knew he was being obnoxious, and he was pleased about it. "Ooh, Slayer's eyes got all big... And is that drool?"

That time she hit him, but not hard. Well, not _very_ hard. "Oww! Poor defenseless vamp here!" Spike cupped his cheek.

"You might be de-fanged, but your mouth was still hurting people." Buffy glared a warning.

In the past- that wouldn't even have phased him. As it was today- he sighed deeply and sat in the chair, staring up at her. "Go on then. The point, Slayer."

Buffy crossed her arms and tried not to have the stupid unjustifiable fit of irritation that he hadn't offered her a seat.

"You can always sit on my lap, Slayer." He smirked up at her, reading her thoughts.

Stupid, smartass vampire, Buffy thought. "I am NOT sitting on your lap, Spike."

"Funny, thought you liked that position." He leaned back, hand resting between his open legs, cased in tight black denim.

"You are a sad, perverted, little creature."

"Not so little though, if I recall you mentioning." Spike grinned more widely, hand now starting to curl around himself.

Buffy gave up. "Obviously this was a stupid mistake to come talk to you. Bye."

Spike was out of the chair and in front of her before she could take a single step. Secretly, she was impressed. "You're a lot less fun from nine to five, Slayer. Fine, I'll behave." He assumed his most innocent expression. "Tell old Spike the problem."

Her mouth twitched in an almost smile, but then stopped. "You know how I've been- we've been- uh- hanging out sometimes?" She began.

"Every night this week? Yeah, I noticed." He said drily.

"You didn't wonder why that was?"

"Thought you needed a break from your lot in life." He said simply.

"Yeah. That, too. But- I've been able to stop patrolling early because there's nothing out there. Well, a few baddies here and there, but nothing major."

"So I'm your energy outlet? Or you're bored?" Spike sounded bitter and it surprised him. He hadn't expected this to go on for long, but he hadn't expected her to make excuses. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but that hurt.

"Oh! No, no!" Buffy waved her hands frantically. "Not like that! I-" She looked at the ground for a minute before continuing, "I'd hang out with you anyway. Just not as often or as much, probably." She clarified hastily. _Did I just try to spare his feelings? I did. Yep. Apocalypse is a-comin'._

Spike's smile returned and made all her qualms about showing him some kindness vanish. "I won't tell anyone. Just two people who need a bit of a break, yeah?"

"Yeah." Buffy relaxed and he relaxed, too.

"Get you a drink?" He offered uncertainly.

"Diet coke?" Well, she could dream, right? She was visiting Spike and had been having mind blowing, highly covetable sex with him for a week. Her sweet, normal Riley was acting like a monster. The monster was still a jerk, but he was being a nice, understanding, oddly insightful one. If that could happen, he might have soda, right? Wrong.

"Jack or the good ol' red stuff." Spike informed her.

"Pass." Buffy sat on the arm of the chair, and he perched on the other. They were close, but not touching, and it felt- easy. Easy to just tell him stuff and forget that maybe she shouldn't. Screw _"shouldn't"_, lots of things in her life "shouldn't" happen, "shouldn't" be, but there they were. Spike was the least of her worries at the moment.

"So, there's nothin' much to kill in good ol' Sunnyhell? The Commandos got 'em all?"

"No. Something bad is brewing. Survey says Adam."

"Oh, big scary green thing?"

"Him, yeah."

Spike nodded slowly, considering. "He might actually have a hand in this. Likes to preach demon solidarity. I don't trust him though. These 'born again' types... always a hidden motive."

"You're smarter than you look." Buffy grudgingly complimented.

"Same." He batted his lashes at her and she laughed in spite of herself.

"We have to take him out."

"Adam? He's a tank on legs, Pet. Good luck with that. If you die, mind if I say I was the lucky one who took you down? Ow!" Spike rubbed his head where the Slayer had given him a sharp open palmed thwack.

"You wanna live a lie?" She challenged.

"Only a few. That might be one of 'em, I'm not sure." He smoothed his hair back down. "So you and the Slayerettes are about to attack Patchwork Face. You come to say your fond farewell?"

"No." Buffy sighed impatiently. "I came to talk to you about helping us with our big green and metallic pest problem."

Spike snorted in disbelief. "Me? Do what now?"

"Come to the Scooby meeting at Giles' tonight." She said through gritted teeth. Damn him. he wasn't making an already difficult thing to ask any easier.

Spike stood up and held out his hands defensively. "Whoa, Slayer. I'm not actively killin' you, but I'm not a bloody white hat!"

Buffy let out a noise of stifled exasperation. "Look, you've seen that Adam guy, right? You know something's wrong. Do you want him to keep building more and more Adams and picking off all the pathetic little vamps like you?" She demanded.

"Not little. We established five ten is a respectable height." He said, deliberately being infuriating.

"If Adam wins, welcome to an era where vampires are like the the chihuahuas in the wolf pack." she taunted.

"Not workin', Slayer. No deal, no dice, not for it." Spike crossed his arms. He had to admit the Slayer and her little pals had treated him beyond decently. That, if vampires ever paid debts, he'd owe them a year's worth of favors. But the chip was bad enough. Bad enough to be toothless and evil, a demon forced to "play nice" by science. He refused to cave in and play nice by "choice". Not without something pretty damn good.

Buffy got to her feet. "Whatever. I just figured I'd ask, 'cause you know- in case you wanted to hang out anytime soon." Her voice became just slightly coy. "Because obviously this Adam situation calls for a strategy and Scooby meetings and I'm _so_ not able to go to the movies or- or anything else- once Giles is in research mode."

Spike remained unmoved. "I think you'll be 'round if you need me for something."

"I was! I am. Look, see? Here's me saying that there's no more Riley, and you're the only other one besides me that has been in that place. That's me needing something." She looked deeply pained, hating herself for saying that, that she might- guh- need him.

Spike loved it, the little bit of power over his sworn enemy. For a minute. Then it got old. He saw that pained expression too often lately, usually right before he was inside her, before he took the pain away. He couldn't see his reflection anymore, but he imagined his own face was mighty pained these nights, when his body got solace and his heart just got told to shut up and take comfort in whatever was handy. This was different. It had to kill her to ask. Yet she did.

"What the hell, might be a giggle." He finally said, and watched her face blossom into a relieved smile. He almost smiled back, but turned it into a scowl. "But I want blood, an' smokes, and the old man better be generous with the whiskey if I'm comin' to consult on this little strategy party.

Buffy shook her head as she turned from him and headed towards the door "The blood, yes. The rest- you're on your own."

"Oi! Not fair! I thought we were friends, Slayer!" Spike called after her retreating figure.

Both of them paused as though zapped with a freeze ray.

"I didn't hear that." Buffy said hoarsely, in disbelief.

"I didn't say that!" Spike frantically backtracked.

"Good." Buffy nodded firmly.

"Great." He was just as quick to agree.

"Okay, see ya." She fled.

"Bye." He collapsed into the chair as the door swung shut. "What the hell was that?" He muttered to himself.

"What the hell was that?" Buffy asked, breathing unaccountably hard as she walked through the sunny cemetery.

"Weird." Spike rubbed his eyes and decided to get some rest before sitting through an interminable goody two shoes meeting.

"Weird." Buffy muttered under her breath and rubbed her forehead to fight off a sudden twinge of headache. "And kinda worrying. Since I was really tempted to tell him that we were. The jackass."

* * *

><p>Willow couldn't help but feel like the world was perfect, even though she knew it as full of icky, scary crap and injustice. But when it was just her and Tara, the bad stuff dissolved in the glow of their friendship. Their <em>more<em> than friendship, that was still kind of hiding from both of them, not to mention everyone else. But none of that mattered when they were together. Willow sighed into the spring sunshine and wished she could just hold the moment still. Birds tweeting and Tara's hair reflecting this pale golden glow and-

"Do you like cats?"

Tara's voice broke the reverie- but in a weird way, Willow decided it added to it. The prefect moments in life should include Tara's sweet voice. "I'm more of a dog person myself. But I'm not like, 'death to all cats.' Why?"

Tara smiled. " 'Cause I was thinking of getting one."

"Can you have one in the dorms?" Willow wrinkled her brow in worry.

"No," Tara confessed with guilt that quickly turned into an innocent tone of playfulness, "but this would be a 'sneaky' cat."

"That would be cool. You mean it'd be sort of like a familiar?"

" Actually, I-I was thinking it would be sort of like a pet. You know, we could- we could name her Trixie, or Miss Kitty Fantastico, or something."

Willow felt herself getting enthusiastic. Her smile broadened, her eyes lit up, and her hands started to dance as she imagined the kitten that she and Tara could play with. "And we could make kitty go bonkers with string and catnip and stuff?

" Absolutely." The blonde nodded happily.

"Fun! I'm in."

"So, you're not allergic or anything?" Tara dipped her head as she asked.

"Nope." Willow reassured.

Tara's pale skin pinkened, "Good, 'cause- I want my room to be Willow-friendly."

"Me too." Willow's heart thumped. She'd never imagined- ever- that her heart could heal from the shattered state of Oz-deprivation it was in when he left. Even knowing it was for her own good- it didn't make sense inside. She still loved him, always had loved him, even when they found out about the wolf part, she wanted to deal with the problems together- and he still left. Now, it was like waking up from a bad dream and she could see past the haze of heartbreak. She could even start to empathize. God, this was what Buffy went through? Being left for your own good made you feel more helpless than if he'd been a jerk and stormed off. At least then you could be mad. Left for your own good was so noble and sweet- and stabbingly painful.

But now... now the pain was just there, in the background, like a scar. Always present, but you don't have to focus on it once you know it's part of you.

Willow took Tara's hand and they walked slowly through the quad. She'd never held her hand in public before, not just to hold it. Like - like she was her sweetheart. She felt Tara's fingers twitch and then tighten. They walked in silence, smiles growing with secrets coming slowly into the light.

Tara cleared her throat and broke the silence, hands swinging as they walked. "So I'm excited about the Scooby meeting ... I think. What's it about?" she screwed up her mouth in a half-curious expression.

"I'm not sure. Probably just your garden-variety disaster." Willow said casually. In the fading sun, with Tara, she shrugged off thoughts of Adam and monsters, soldiers, demons, and vampires. That could come later.

* * *

><p>"Are we late?" Xander and Anya came through Giles' front door, pizza box held out as a peace offering in case they were.<p>

"Are there jellies?" Giles stuck his head around the kitchen hatch, glasses half steamed from a pot of tea he was holding.

"Pizza, not doughnuts." Anya explained, putting the box on the table.

"No jellies? But we're having a Scooby meeting. That means doughnuts." Buffy pouted.

"Or pizza. Move with the times." Xander grinned.

"Tea?" Giles called to the room in general.

"Herbal?" Tara asked, sitting beside Willow on a pair of stools propped up along the kitchen counter.

"Earl Grey?" Giles offered.

"No, thank you, Mr. Giles." Tara shook her head bashfully.

"More for me." Giles grinned to put her at ease.

"Did I offend him? I should have had some. Is that a Scooby rule, tea and doughnuts?" Tara whispered nervously to Willow.

"No!" She hissed reassuringly, putting her hand lightly on her friend's knee. "Trust me, Giles is so used to putting up with us and our shenanigans, you can't offend him."

The door banged open and slammed shut in a whirl of nicotine scented leather and white skin. "Evenin'. Rupes, do you have anything stronger than what you're brewin'?"

"Leave, Spike." Giles marched into the living room, snagging a crossbow of his desk on the way.

"I was wrong about the offending Giles part." Willow mumbled nervously to Tara, eyes riveted on Spike.

"What're you doing here?" Xander stood and demanded.

"Miss me?" Spike lit up as he slouched against a wall, eyes dancing around the room.

"Leave in one piece or in many, it's your choice." Giles sighed long sufferingly. "Unless, and I find this highly unlikely, you have some valid reason for being here?"

Buffy bit her lip and waited. Spike could explain this nicely- or he could be himself.

He was himself. "Slayer called in the big guns." His tongue arched behind his incisors in a wicked smile. "Figured you lot needed the help."

"Spike!" Buffy stopped leaning against the living room window and straightened up angrily.

"Isn't that so, Slayer?" He turned wide blue eyes on her.

"Not exactly." Buffy muttered with a sigh. "All I said was-"

"Whoa, Buff. _You_ asked the Undead Billy Idol over?" Xander was stunned.

"You watch it!" Spike pointed angrily at the brunette.

"They've probably bonded." Anya said in a bored voice, reaching for a slice of pepperoni. "Giles, do you have any root beer?"

"Spike's been helpful in the past." Giles mused.

"He's also threatened to turn us all into bloodless corpses in the past." Willow shivered.

"He's harmless." Anya threw out. "Giles? Root beer?"

"I'm not soddin' harmless! I'm just on a restricted diet." Spike grimaced.

Shouting and confusion reigned for a few more seconds before Spike flipped off the room at large and flung the door open. "I'm out."

"Stop!" Buffy spat. "Spike, shut the door and stop acting like an undead diva." Spike paused, unmoving. Buffy rounded on her friends. "Geez! I asked Spike over for a reason. He might actually be helpful for one of the few times in his really pointless existence and everyone's too busy worrying about him- insignificant, harmless vampire- when we have a killing machine named Adam to worry about!" She flung her arms out in exasperation. The room fell into a guilty silence.

Except for Spike. As usual. "Insignificant, harmless vamp? Pointless existence?" Spike's lips curled. "You know- I came 'cause you asked me, Slayer, not 'cause I wanted to be in this white hat retreat for the terminally good and painfully stupid." He turned his back and headed over the threshold.

"You big welcher!" Buffy hissed at him.

He turned. "Oh yes, Luv, never been called anything worse than that." He rolled his eyes sarcastically.

"You _are_ harmless, and you _do_ have a pointless existence." Buffy strode across the room and snagged his coat, yanking him to face her. Spike opened his mouth angrily but Buffy plowed on. "No. You are, and you do. You can hurt demons, not humans. And you can't be the big bad with that chip in your head, so you don't have a point in your unlife- unless you get one. Helping us."

"I'm not gonna stay here and let you insult me." Spike's voice dropped to such a low threatening growl that Giles finger went to the trigger on the crossbow, and Buffy took a half step back. "You may be the high an' mighty Slayer, an' I might be temporarily muzzled. That changes nothing." He ground out, stepping forward, eyes snapping. "Not in the long run. I'm as bad as you are good, so why the_ hell_ would I ever help you, when there's nothin' in it for me?"

"Because you said you would." Buffy bit off each word, no longer even slightly intimidated. Oh yes, this was the Spike she knew. The Spike she hated. And oddly enough, she now knew the other Spike, the bedroom version, and those fierce blue eyes had layers now. She had never been truly afraid of him, although she'd known he was dangerous. _Better the danger you know, right?_

Spike laughed harshly. "Yeah, Slayer. And when did I ever keep my word?"

He knew it felt wrong the moment it crossed his lips. She knew it, too, dammit._ Dammit, she was resourceful, she'd led him by the nose, right to this._ Her green eyes raked his and her head tilted slightly. He knew both of them were hearing words he'd said only yesterday- or was it only this morning, early in the midnight moments?

_"Because, Slayer, all we get is broken promises, don't you see that? 'I won't leave, I'll come back, we're eternal, we're forever.' _Bull. Shit._"_ _He curled his lips in a feral snarl of anger and loss, body starting to move from hers, flames starting to dance in his eyes. "Better not to promise a damn thing, unless you can deliver it the next moment an' _know_ you can keep your goddamn, _fuckin' WORD!_" _

Buffy burned under a cerulean gaze, but didn't look away. She felt a tremble inside her stomach, and wondered if he felt it too. If he could hear the echo in his mind, like she heard it in hers?

_"Spike? I promise I can make it feel better- if you can make me feel better?"_

He swallowed convulsively "I can do that." He mouthed, recalling the end of the conversation, his promise and hers. Recalling another hour of sweet, tangling, physical comfort that exhausted them until the pain wasn't there anymore. 'Til the whole damned world felt less vile because someone had delivered for once. "I can do that." He murmured, slightly louder.

"I know." She smiled quickly. Spike closed the door and took his coat off. He stood, silently waiting.

"Okay. What the hell was that?" Xander demanded, hand raised as if waiting to be called on.

"I told you. Bonding." Anya shook her head.

"It isn't!" Spike and Buffy cried as one.

"That's new and creepy." Willow muttered.

Spike watched Buffy hesitate and heard another of their little conversations replay in his head. _"Another part of being a good lover is doin' what your partner needs, even if they didn't ask. Anticipate, yeah?" So, he did._ "Slayer just reminded me what was in it for me. I'm stayin' 'cause of that-" he gave Buffy a smirk, one that covered the depth of emotion that was really between them now, "an' not 'cause you're bein' Miss Bossy Buffy. I want what I came for. Blood and Scotch, alright, Rupes?" Spike asked with a snarky sneer. Giles looked at him curiously for a second, eyes swiveling to Buffy's, and then he wordlessly went to the kitchen.

"Reminded you? How?" Willow looked between them, puzzlement etching itself on her face.

Buffy was spared answering by Anya, who threw down the magazine she was leafing through and shouted in exasperation. Doesn't anyone listen to me? _Bonding!_ B-O-N-"

"Can we get started?" Spike spoke over her, more to deter the conversation about bonding than because of legitimate hurry. "Some of us have poker games to get to."

"Buffy, why don't you begin?" Giles came out with a mug of blood and passed it to Spike with a pointed glare. "If we're all quite finished with our dramatic entrances and exits?"

"Where's the whiskey?" Spike asked with a half- pout.

"Do grow up." Giles muttered and perched on the arm of the sofa with a nod at Buffy.

"Finally." She mumbled, and then looked around the room as she explained her worry. " Patrol's been totally uneventful. My kill count's way down."

Willow acted as interpreter to Tara who was new to these formal meetings, only having had the on the fly session when Buffy and Spike were trapped in the Lowell House. In a whisper, she explained, "She means there's been less bad-guy activity." Tara nodded, mouth in a little "o" of comprehension.

Giles exchanged a look with his slayer. "Well, we know what that often indicates."

Xander put on a mock-stern air. "Buffy doesn't make her quota." He shook his finger at her. "Bad slayer!"

"Well, I wish it were that innocuous, but with Adam around, I feel he's involved somehow." Giles reached for a bag of pretzels left on the coffee table and poured them into a bowl he'd set out.

Willow explained again, "When things get slow, it's usually because there's some extra evil brewing." Tara nodded.

"That's funny, actually, now I think of it." Spike interjected, licking a drop of blood from his lip. " 'Cause at Willy's, the place is becomin' a ghost town. Stopped in on my way over tonight. He told me half his patrons have been captured this week by the Secret Agent Boys."

"So if they're all out there getting captured by the Initiative, who need like- six guys to make one catch- I should have dead demon and dusty vamp coming out of my ears!"

"That's a metaphor." Willow whispered.

Tara tried not to laugh, and just gave a soft grin instead. "I got it, thanks."

"I'm overhelping, aren't I?" Willow asked with an adorably apologetic wince. This time Tara's laugh rippled out.

"So the activity's shifted but not stopped." Giles passed the snack bowl to Willow, who seemed too lost in Tara's giggle to notice. He moved to the desk and sat down with a thoughtful expression "That's fascinating."

"To an extremely bored person, maybe." Anya mumbled, earning herself a glare from her host. "Well, that was a thrilling twenty minutes."

Everyone shifted in their seats, some rising, Giles among them, looking upset. "You know, I really don't appreciate your snide remarks, Anya. Now, I have a great deal of experience in these matters."

The sound of a door opening drew everyone's attention, except for Giles who was in mid rant. "And if I say there is a matter of some import brewing, I-I-" He noticed everyone looking behind him, and turned.

Tara looked confused. There was young guy in the doorway she'd never met, but everyone else obviously knew him. They looked startled and surprised. Willow looked worse, she looked totally stunned.

"Hey." The newcomer said with a small jerk of his head that could have been a nod, could have been a spasm.

"Oz." Willow said weakly, leaning heavily on the counter.

"Oz." Tara repeated softly, a wave of understanding sweeping over her, leaving her feeling rather weak-legged herself. Willow shot her an indecipherable look and the turned her attention back to Oz.

Buffy's attention however, went to Willow. Her best girlfriend looked almost ill, not exuberant, not tearful, just- like she was going to pass out from shock. _She probably doesn't want to get her hopes up. I know that I wouldn't want to get worked up whenever I see Angel- if he ever lets me see him again. Not like LA, not like Thanksgiving, not like the Faith incident. When all he'll do is push me away again. Poor Wills, for all she knows, he's just here to meet up with the band..._

" When-when did you get back?" Willow asked, moving a step forward.

"Pretty much- now." Oz answered casually, though he still seemed uncomfortable.

Xander looked at the frozen figures in the room and then stepped into the breach. "Oz, man. Hate to sound grandma, but... you don't call, you don't write..."

"Yeah, sorry." A flicker of a smile crossed his features and the men shook hands.

"So are you _here_ here, or are you just passing through?" Buffy asked what she knew Willow must be aching to say.

Giles interceded. "Well, um, let's not- uh- bombard the poor chap with questions

right off. Can I get you something? Tea?" He asked with a trace of nervousness, puling his glasses off and heading towards the kitchen once again.

"I'll pass, thanks." Oz walked slowly towards Willow. "Look, I'm going to Devon's to see if he's got a place I can crash. But... I was hoping that we could talk. Later. Tonight?" He asked cautiously.

"I guess so." Willow said in a wobbly voice.

His shoulders relaxed slightly. "I'll come by your place?"

"Okay."

Oz smiled in relief. " It's great to see you guys again. Really." And then just as quietly and unobtrusively as he had entered, he left, leaving a shell shocked Willow in his wake.

Anya twitched her shoulders and looked around the room with a half-wince. "Everyone's uncomfortable now."

"Perceptive, aren't you?" Spike drawled.

Buffy shot him a poisonous glare and walked to Willow, reaching for her arm."You okay?" She asked softly.

"I-" Willow faltered and got no further.

Tara swallowed audibly and began gathering her jacket and purse. "I just, um - I realized, um, I'm-I'm late for study group."

Willow's eyes widened and she jerked her head towards her. "Tara, wait."

" No, no, it's okay. You-you should be with your friends, and, and I-I should go." She gave a painful little smile around the room and bolted.

Willow felt like the world had sped up and she was moving in slow motion. "Wait..." She reached for the door that Tara had just closed behind her. _Don't you leave me, too. No, not for "my own good."_

Willow stood still, frozen, face a picture of confusion and upset.

"Meeting adjourned." Giles said softly.

"Willow-" Xander and Buffy began at the same time.

Willow waved vaguely and pulled her sweater on, walking towards the door as though moving underwater.

"Let's go home." Xander said tiredly to Anya, who nodded.

* * *

><p>"You headin' home to the dorms?" Spike's voice was right in Buffy's ear as she exited Giles' flat, the last to leave, about half an hour after the rest, including himself. But he'd doubled back.<p>

"I thought I smelled ashes." Buffy didn't jump- not outwardly. She turned and saw Spike stepping from the hedge lining the walkway, directly beside her.

"Is that a threat?" He asked in an injured tone.

"No, it means you ought to get that coat dry cleaned." Buffy wrinkled her nose. "And no, I'm not heading back to the dorms. Willow and Oz need time alone- to talk. Or make up. Whatever." She shrugged and blushed. She fell into step with him, lengthening her strides as he shortened his, both walking with superhuman speed. "So- what are we doing?" She asked with a forced brightness.

"Well, we could -" Spike paused as they hit the pavement and a shaft of moonlight lit them. "You really ought to go home, Slayer."

"I'm not a voyeur. I wouldn't want someone butting in on my life. More than they already do." She sighed heavily.

"Well, unless your girl likes it rough an' possibly fatal, you'd better get back there." He pointed his chin to the sky. "Lovely full moon."

Buffy gasped, looked up, and wheeled around at a run- but only for a few steps. "No. Oz won't let her get hurt. He- he left because he wanted to protect her, I know he'll protect her now. He'll hang out somewhere locked up tight- but-" Buffy's face clouded and cleared. "Spike, he was already human on a wolf night! It was after sunset when he came over!" Buffy's face lit up. "He's found a way to control it!"

"Steady on, Slayer." Spike followed the excited girl as she now marched along, back in the direction she had originally been heading. "Never heard of any werewolf findin'-"

Buffy cut him off, voice growing firmer. "Well, he found it, whatever it is. You were there. You saw it."

Spike shoved his ands in his pockets, finally nodding. "I did. Wolf-boy found himself a cure- or at least some kind of a fix."

"Yeah." Buffy nodded. "Yeah. looks like."

They walked in silence for another minute. "You patrollin'?" Spike asked.

"If I see something nasty, I'm killing it. Present company excluded." She gave him a lopsided grin that didn't reach her eyes, barely reached her face.

"Half assed kind of patrol, Slayer." He goaded.

"I could get real motivated and stake you?" She offered, giving him a sideways glance.

"On the other hand, it's a lovely night for a walk, and it'd be a shame to spoil it."

"Thought you'd see it my way." Buffy looked up at the sky. "Wow. I kind of stopped keeping track of the moon phases, since Oz was gone. Guess I'll have to start again. Now that he's back."

Spike looked at her sharply. "Slayer?" He heard a subtle catch in her voice, a little change in pulse rate. "You okay?"

"I'm great. This is great. I mean, this has to be Willow's dream come true. Y'know? He came back to her. For her." She sniffed suddenly and turned it into a cough. "He said he'd fix it, and that he couldn't be with her right then- but he didn't mean forever. He- he tried. He made- he made it better, and he- came back for her." Buffy stumbled through her words, and then stumbled, physically, into Spike, her eyes blurred by unshed tears. "Sorry." She hastily righted herself, but not without leaving traces of wet cheeks on his sleeve. "Allergies. Watery eyes." she lied, completely unconvincingly.

Spike snorted. "Allergic to happy endings, are you? Well, you would be, bein' a Slayer an' all."

"Shut up." She sniffed in hard and swallowed, pushing herself to walk faster, put a few steps between them.

Spike let her get a few feet ahead and then caught up. "Slayer? Why don't you skip this- 'patrol'?"

Buffy turned and looked at him, face blank.

Spike looked uncomfortable. "I'm serious. Give it a miss. You're not- feelin' well." Well, how could she be? He wasn't too chipper either. It's one thing to think that love lost is love lost, hard and painful to bear, and impossible to fix- and then along comes someone who proves you wrong. Someone a lot younger, with a lot less experience, who'd been with his lover for an even shorter time- and that wolf-boy manages to do the one thing both of them begged for every day- simply returning for love's sake, dangerous or not, sensible or not.

Buffy's facade cracked and she let out a hollow, bitter laugh that rang out in the dark streets. Spike looked around quickly and hurried up to her, getting ready to watch a complete mental breakdown. He was well versed in those, at least. "Slayer-"

"No, Spike- why should I take a night off from my sacred duty?" Buffy jabbed her chest with her palm. "Look at me. I'm fine. I'm living my happy, normal life, right?" Her laugh turned tearful. "Living my happy, normal life, just what I always wanted- and he wanted to give me."

"Sure you are, Pet." Spike soothed, approaching her, hands out to take her arms. "You don't have to live it tonight, though. Do you?"

Buffy swallowed and wiped her eyes. I_'m falling apart in front of Spike. And I am happy for Willow. How can I be so selfish, how can I worry about Angel and me? There _is_ no Angel and me._ "M-maybe not." She managed to answer Spike.

"That's right. You know things are a bit slow 'round town. We could give _Blood Fists of Honor_ another go." He hinted eagerly.

Buffy shook her head, amazed that Spike was trying to make her feel better- in his own clumsy way. "I don't think I'm up for endless subtitles and gore."

"Suit yourself." He shrugged, and they walked a few steps, arms brushing this time. "This is my stop then." He jerked his head towards the iron fence surrounding Restfield.

"Okay." Buffy nodded jerkily, and he waved once- and then for some reason when he walked away, she followed him into the cemetery, towards his crypt.

"Uh-" Spike raised a single brow.

"I don't want to see the movie." She looked into his eyes, trying to keep her own from refilling. "I didn't say that I don't want that break."

Spike nodded, comprehending. He didn't like to take this unorthodox relationship as a given. But if she wanted to come in with him- well, his body took that as a sign. Even though his heart was twisting, his loins were starting to tighten up. "I could use a break m'self." He ambled to wards the crypt, speaking to her as she stepped beside him . "Happy for Red, don't get me wrong- well, 'cept for that fact that I hate all of you bleedin' white hats. An' 'cept it makes you wish your own lovely'd waltz back in." He gestured to the empty air, acting for his unseen loved one, "Hullo, I've fixed my brain an' my barmy little visions that led me away, made me think -we're not supposed to be together anymore..." What had started off comical trailed off sadly.

But Buffy knew exactly how he felt, and she picked up where he ended. "Or- 'hey no more curse'. Or even 'hey, curse, but I don't mind not having sex. Because I actually _love_ you. Really love _you_, not sex with you, not anything but just being with you'..." She blinked hard. "Damn it." She rubbed her eyes again.

"Don't work yourself up, Slayer, he never did understand about love." Spike smiled grimly, lightly patting her back.

She shook her head, wet noise catching in her throat before she could talk again. "Did he ever really love me at all? I - I thought he did." _But I'm kinda stupid, aren't I?"_

Spike struggled to answer her. It'd be bloody easy to lie, or to tell the truth, and he didn't know what would hurt more. He didn't even know what was true. But he knew what might make her feel better, if he was a betting man- which he was. " Yes, Slayer. I think he really did." He murmured, words pulled slowly from him.

Buffy wiped at her eyes once more. When she spoke, it wasn't forced, the words fairly flew from her mouth in her haste to return the comfort he'd just given her. "And Drusilla loved you. Her William. You- you belonged to her." She said sincerely.

Damn that little blonde minx. His own eyes went damp and he had to wipe at them like some nancy schoolboy. When he spoke, his voice was hard, belying the pain.

"Still soddin' threw me away though, didn't she?" Buffy's mouth opened and closed without sound, so he pushed on, now whispering thickly. "Belongin' is different than lovin', maybe. Maybe somethin' you love, you cherish an' hold. Somethin' that belongs to you is just meant to be kept for as long as you want and tossed out as you please."

Buffy took his arms hard and shook them. "No. No, it's not like that, Spike!" She insisted.

"Oh, you're a sweet, young thing, Slayer... what do you know? Did you belong to him? He took you, but didn't mean he wanted to keep you." Spike pushed her arms off of his own. His hand came up suddenly, angrily, because he was used to hitting when he hurt- and now that he couldn't- his hand somehow just brushed her cheek softly. "Love an' belongin'. Think they are different. An' I don't know what's worse, to be loved an' left- or to love and wonder if she loved you like a part of herself- or like one of her blasted dollies. Don't know..." His voice died away.

Buffy's voice again began where his left off. "And it doesn't matter, it doesn't have to! _We_ loved_ them_. That's what matters." She let out a hiccuping sob, and didn't even try to cover it anymore. "Still love them. Still. That's- that's what matters." She let herself cry, and she didn't really care anymore, who saw her. Because Slayers lives aren't fair. They're not supposed to fall in love. No one told her that was part of the deal, and no one asked her if she minded. Even Angel didn't ask her...

Her grief, the scent of it sickened him- because it smelled so much like his own. How the hell come it hadn't come out before now? This was _years'_ worth of rotted sadness._ 'Cause she's tough, you pillock. She masked it by strength, an' then she masked it with the army wanker._

He didn't care if she wanted him just now, or if anyone was watching, but he could't stand there so full of pain and see hers, too, and jsut let them both hurt. He grabbed her and kissed her hard, pulling her against the door of his crypt, mouth catching her tears hungrily, biting and gnawing her like he was going to suck the sadness right out of her. He only pulled back when the sob turned into a strangled gasp. "Listen to me, listen! Shh, don't you cry." He urged in a fierce, low snarl.

"I'm not crying." She choked out. "I'd never cry in front of you." She lied pointlessly.

Spike rolled his eyes but kept his grip on her arms. "Yeah, you're not. Just somehow there's tears all over your face an' my coat, an' your nose is runnin'."

She wiped her nose with embarrassed haste. "Leave me alone. I'm just a mess and I'm so stupid. So stupid for holding on to-"

"The best thing in the world?" Spike cut her off with a jerk of his head. "No Luv, _he's_ the stupid one. They are. Both of 'em, for walking away from all the love we had to give. We're damn good at it, and I don't mean in bed, I mean we'd kill an' die for them, even if they're the biggest prats in the universe. We're better than this, Slayer." Spike's cold fingers dug into her face and forced her eyes up. "You gonna cry over his mistake?" He demanded in a hiss.

She hesitated, torn between lying, the truth, and just being sick of having to think about what she should do. What about what she _wanted_ to do? That was why she wanted to be with Spike- pure, simple, enjoyment, satisfying a complicated, impure want. So she said what she wanted, exactly what she wanted. "When I can't hold it in anymore. Only when I can't help it." She confessed.

He spoke in an urgent undertone. "Then let me help it. Help us both. Dammit, you're the Slayer and I'm the Slayer of Slayers. We are tougher than this!" He shook her, letting her slam back into the crypt. He hadn't meant it to hurt, or it hadn't hurt, because no shocks occurred.

"No." Buffy put a single finger to his lips. "Not tough. Not Slayer. Not now. Just- just Buffy." Her eyes leaked out one more tear before they stilled.

His mind slipped back to the dark, lost reality of a week ago, heard her little voice in his ear as he rocked himself deeper and deeper into soft, yielding heat. _"Could you just call me Buffy? Just- just for this round?"_ He heard his own hinted request, _"My William. She always called me that- when we were alone."_

He understood. Give each other the out one more time- maybe a lot more times, as often as they wanted it, needed it. Because that was the only option left, when the real thing was gone. "That's right." He opened the door of the crypt, tugging her aside to shift it. "Buffy." He hesitated, and then stood back, to let her enter first.

She passed wearily in front of him and inside, kissing him once as she passed, gently, quickly, on a surprised mouth. "William." She breathed, and the door banged shut behind them.

* * *

><p>In the darkness beside the mausoleum, Riley Finn rose, jaw wired, and clenched painfully, not from the broken bone, but from the broken heart. He'd been there to watch the vampire's comings and goings. Watch and see if there had been some way the vampire worked around his chip, if there had been a way he'd tricked and traumatized Buffy.<p>

Now he knew the truth. He hadn't heard much, not from his vantage point, but he head Buffy's sobs, her crying out for love lost- presumably not him, presumably the other vampire. And then- kissing him. Willingly. Multiple times.

She wants him. She initiated it, made it deeper. They were meeting again, and no one was forcing them this time. He doubted more than ever if there had been any mystical control over them the last time.

He crept closer to the crypt and hesitated. He could go in there. He knew what they'd be doing, he knew he could catch them at it, throw it in her face, and stake that stupid HST like he should have done the first time he'd ever seen him.

Three minutes of intense listening passed, and he didn't hear a single sound. He briefly wondered if Buffy could be in some sort of thrall or hypnotized, if he should go in, ready to kill.

But the memory of a tiny little hand shattering his nose as easily as breaking a weakened toothpick assailed him. If he was after Spike, and Buffy was sleeping with him- not a very big if at this point- Buffy would kick his ass. And possibly split it irreparably. He rubbed his swollen jaw, still creaking in it's internal metallic sling. If he pissed her off again- she might just knock it clean off. He'd wait. In the mean time- he knew the real story. She wasn't normal, she wasn't human. She'd always wanted a monster inside of her, for the monster in herself.

* * *

><p>There were no monsters and no demons and no slayers. There was no pain. There was candlelight and soft silky sheets and there were two lovers, Buffy and William, people who were madly in love.<p>

Just not with one another.

Not that it mattered right then.

Buffy hadn't known it was possible to be so miserable and trapped inside yourself one second and so lost in someone else and so high on them, drunk on them, the next.

"Hold me tighter." She clung to him, naked body wrapped around him, under him, sheathing him.

Spike nodded silently, too busy with his mouth all over her throat to make actual words. He pulled her further off the mattress and into himself. He closed his eyes and didn't bother to pretend. Dru didn't feel like this. She wasn't warm like this. _This is how love _should_ feel. Hot and wet and desperate, all over you. It should be like poetry- rhythmic and pulsing, desperate to convey a message._ "Buffy."

"My William, my William." She cried out sharply when he thrust in her hard, felt him hit her inside, a soft knob of unyielding flesh that no one else ever touched. _That's what love is supposed to be like. It touches you where it shouldn't, wrong and right don't matter, because you just have to be together. So together. As together as it gets. When you can't tell where he starts and you begin..._

"You're so beautiful. You're sweet, an' wonderful- an' loved." He rasped against her cheek, teeth scraping her skin. Not that _he_ loved her. But she was loved.

"You're always trying, you give- everything." She winced in pleasure and bit down hard on his shoulder as she started to cum around him, spasming deeper and harder than she ever had before. "She loved you, William."

"Never lie, do you, Luv?" He watched her arch and crash, sweat streaking from her temples to the damp curls he was splitting open.

She blinked up at him. "I lie sometimes."

His heart plummeted and his jaw hardened. He shoved himself inside her again, not looking at her anymore, just wanting to end it, find the release and leave.

Buffy caught his head. "I lie sometimes. But that was the truth."

"How do I tell then?" He scoffed.

"If you ever made her feel like this-" Buffy gasped into his open mouth as he tumbled them together, "even once, in the last hundred years- she loved you, Spike. She told you. Her William. She loved you enough- to make you hers."

His shoulders convulsed and he bowed his head, forehead to forehead. "You think?"

"I know." She did at that moment. She could look at him, frozen in time, strong and sleek outside, sensitive, wild, and passionate inside. and offering it up unconditionally. How could you not want that? How could you not fall in love with that, make it yours? "I know she did. My William."

Bloody hell, she was powerful. She could possess him just as much as Dru had- even if only for a few seconds. For a few seconds, that girl was everything, and her holding him meant the world. He let out a tortured groan and his hips bucked and dipped before he poured out what he had to give, what he owed her. "My Buffy." He whispered, sinking on top of her.

Angel never called her that. It gave her a warm glow inside. He told her she was his girl. But not his Buffy. This was better. All of it. It all felt better. And worth doing again, and again, and again...

* * *

><p>"Stay here?" He had her bent backwards, limp like a rag doll over his arm, her gold hair skimming the sheets as he pulsed them together.<p>

"Yeah, I want to stay here." She nodded unhesitatingly. Willow and Oz might need the place to themselves all night. But that wasn't why. She didn't want the lovemaking to end.

A horrified thought crept into her mind. _Lovemaking? Oh, no, don't be silly._ Buffy brushed it away. T_his was never love. But- but didn't I even think that? Didn't I even think that this was what love should feel like? Oh my God..._

_No. No it isn't love. The heart is firmly not interested in this man-monster combo._ But as Spike smiled down on her through half closed eyes, languid sexual prowess in every line of him, passionate caresses in every touch of his skin to hers, no matter where it was, she had to admit she wished her heart could feel something like her body was feeling. _This is what love ought to be like... but I'll never tell him that._

Spike watched her head lolling back, breasts thrust up and spine arched in a quiver of release. God, she was splendid. And so alive, so raw, so real. The violence wasn't there- but then- once upon a time, he hadn't craved the blood rush, he'd craved the pounding of his heart in time with another's. He could feel her heart pounding in time with his body. He'd lost the heartbeat, but not the rhythm. The rhyme of the flesh had never left him, even if his poetry fled long ago. But dammit, she might just restore it. Restore it all, life, and heart, and soul. Love could do anything- but no. He wasn't in love with her. His body simply had fallen in love with hers. Physically. Feeling, sensation only. Nothing more. Sure, he wished that this tidal wave of heat and light and the explosion of poetic passion was love- but he'd never let her know.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A __sequel __to__ "__Uncontrollable__"__. Please __read __that __first, __or __this __won__'__t __make __much __sense. __Begins __about __a __week __after __the__ "__Uncontrollable__" __version __of __the __incidents __at __the __Lowell __House __in __Where __the __Wild __Things __Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's note: Short chapter to tide you over while i'm working on a longer, more complicated one, as well as something for "Deleted Scenes". Thanks, please read and review!_

_Dedicated to ginar369, jaimee001, Vera Snape- Evans, Searching-For-My-Reason, Sirius 120, DLillith21, lil-leti, and Dreylin_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part IV

"Is it light out?" Buffy whispered to the man beside her, waking him.

"Not quite dawn." He rolled over and faced her, a puzzled half smile on his face. "You really did stay."

"I said I would." Buffy stretched. She felt oddly comfortable with him. Her body in particular liked being near his body, and her brain found him in equal parts irritating and amusing. Well, maybe equal was a stretch, maybe more irritating than amusing, but...

"Thought you might have left while I was out. Avoid the cold light of day. Figuratively speakin', of course." He shifted under the covers and propped himself up on an elbow.

"Yeah, well...it sucks to wake up to no one after you've spent a night of passionate lovemaking and-" Buffy's tongue crashed to a halt. "I meant- sex. It's- well it's- personal and it'd be bad manners to- I mean, it'd be a bad feeling to-"

Spike reached over and pushed her chin with one finger, shutting her mouth. "I know. It's no fun to think you were used and tossed off. Even though-" he shrugged, "guess we've got no call to do otherwise."

"Yeah." Buffy shrugged in return. _Except that we'd get hurt, and I think we've mutually decided our love lives- not that we're in love, but that this somehow remotely connected to them- suck enough without adding to it._

"Still. Nice enough to wake up beside the person you went to bed with."

"Tell me about it." Buffy sighed and snuggled back on the pillow. She frowned and then got a wistful gleam in her eye. "That must've been how your life was. For years and years and years..."

Spike swallowed before answering."Yeah. Yeah that's right." He replied hoarsely. Oh, it wasn't always in a bed, and it was rarely the traditional laying down and getting up together- but knowing she was somewhere nearby, hearing her humming, or talking to one of her dollies, or arguing with Darla in the earlier days, hearing someone screaming and knowing his princess was at work. Just knowing he could get up and go find her somewhere close by. Never appreciated it until it was gone.

"I shouldn't have said that." Buffy watched the face across from her sinking into sadness. "I always bring up your bad memories."

He shook himself. "I must bring up yours, Luv, otherwise you wouldn't sound like waking up next to your lover- uh- whatever-" he breezed over his slip hastily, "was some almighty treat."

"A lot of men are jerks." Buffy muttered and savagely punched the mattress.

"Don't I know. Got a real satisfaction eatin' that type."

In spite of how horrible that was and how totally _wrong_, Buffy let out a short laugh.

Spike raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Well, well. Slayer's got a sense of humor in there. Shagged it loose, did I?"

"Last night was so not 'shagging'." Buffy scoffed, eager not to give him credit- and too late realizing what she'd said.

"Wasn't, huh?" Spike slowly, ponderously scooted his hips closer to hers under the sheets, fire and suggestion in the subtle movement.

" Yeah, 'cause- there was- uh..." Buffy scooted away from him slightly, watching a wicked gleam come into his eye, and feeling like she'd just opened Pandora's box.

"Explain again, Slayer? What was it?" His hand reached across the few inches of space under the covers and came to rest on her bare torso, which quivered at the sudden touch.

Buffy's hand tightened around his wrist in an instant. "Stop."

And he did, looking confused and upset. "Easy, now. I've stopped." He said softly, fingers retracting from her flesh.

_Damn, damn, damn, and what the heck, bloody hell. I didn't mean to make him look at me like that. I just don't want to say it out loud. I just don't want to confuse things, because I - like this. It's nice and comfortable and gives me what I want, and a nice imitation of what I can't have, too._ "Sorry." She whispered, not letting go of his wrist. "It wasn't the touching." She explained, and placed his hand back down on her soft skin.

"I wasn't tryin' to cross any lines." Spike frowned for a moment. "Do we have lines?" He asked curiously.

"Yes!" She snapped quickly. Duh. That should be so obvious. Except... "Of course we have lines. I just don't know what they are. And I'm so not in the mood to draw up a list."

Spike chuckled and his muscles stopped their tense hold, ready to leap out of bed or fight her off. He softly traced his thumb in a lazy circle from just below her breasts to her navel. "Last night cross any lines for you?" He asked casually. Because they sure had for him. But he was the line crossing type, so it hadn't bothered him. Much.

"Wh-what makes you ask that?" Buffy winced pleasurably under his touch. Why did the evil vampire have to have the good -if slightly cold-hands? Why not the supposedly nice guy?

"Couple things you said this morning." He smirked quickly before his features returned to simple unconcern. "Wondered if you meant anything by the term 'passionate lovemaking'."

Of course he picked up on that. Twenty times out of twenty one he didn't hear anything she said unless it was shouted and backed up with a fist, but he catches the tiniest little slip of the tongue._ Oh, tongue slippage... why hadn't anyone ever taught Riley to- no, back on track, bad Buffy._ "I think I meant that it didn't feel like- it has sometimes. Before."

"Good." Spike breathed out after a moment of hesitation. "Glad I'm not the only one." He slid closer, and the time found himself met by her. "Not that I'm in love, Slayer."

"No! God forbid." She looked disgusted, even as she was stroking her fingertips across his chest. "But..." She looked up, meeting his eyes worriedly, "I don't think my body gets that concept."

He let out a dark chuckle. "You were magic last night. You were what it ought to be like, so warm, so alive, such heat..."

"Couldn't tell where you started and I stopped. So good. So good to be touched like that, with everything you have to give and it doesn't even matter if it's good or bad as long as it keeps happening." She spoke desperately, letting him claim her body, sliding on top of her with a furious fire of kisses on her neck and shoulders.

" 'S what love oughta be like." He grunted into the hollow of her throat.

"I know! I know- but it wasn't. At least not for me." She let a sad flicker of a smile cross her face.

Spike raised up to meet her. "Want the truth? Wasn't like that for me either, an' I had a bloody lot longer to get it right, Luv."

"So what does that mean?" She asked in a tight, high voice, thick with apprehension.

"We're not in love. Never will be." He grabbed her under one thigh and settled her around him. With a hard grunt that matched her low moan, he slid into her swollen, soaked flesh. "Bodies didn't get the message."

Her eyes rolled back from the instant pleasure. "Let's not tell them, okay?"

"Deal." He dropped his mouth on hers and found ecstasy when she locked herself around him, wordlessly promising never to let him go.

* * *

><p>"I am gonna have to go eventually." Buffy pouted after another round of intense coupling, her head crashed against Spike's, both on one pillow.<p>

"Have fun in the world of text books and uncomfortable desks." Spike absently stroked her hair.

"What are you gonna do all day, Lazy?" Buffy weakly sat up, and then sank right back down.

"Smoke. Drink. Watch a bit of telly. Lay low in case your friends in green decide to pay a call." He found himself curling up against her, wanting a few more minutes of her borrowed warmth and inhaling her scent- even if it was making him hungry. "You smell divine." He sniffed her, shoulder to cleavage, licking his lips.

"Don't be disgusting." Buffy shoved his head away as if he were an over friendly dog. "Your day sounds like an advertisement for a wasted life."

"Bloody good thing I'm dead, init Cutie?"

Buffy sighed and gave him along suffering look. "I don't know why I hang out with you."

" 'Cause you like it." Spike's eyes flared at her, amusement and challenge lighting their blue depths.

Buffy faltered for a moment when he said that, torn between insults and denials. Neither came out. "Yeah. I do."

Spike blinked, pleased and shocked- with a fair helping of nagging uncomfortableness. "Do you?" He gulped slightly. Hearing her say it made it less of a joke and more of a- reality. As if their reality wasn't already a joke.

"Would I be here- in a really gross crypt basement- not even a crypt, the lower level of a crypt- and you know it's weird, I actually do think this level is nicer with the-"

"Slayer!" Spike glared. "Bring your teensy little mind back on track, can you?"

"Would I be here, in this place, with you of all people- if I didn't like-" She licked her lips, "what we do?"

"Just the sex, then?" He asked, one eyebrow quirked.

Again she faltered. "Not just that."

Spike paused. "Good."

Buffy sat up, and this time Spike joined her. "Think of Adam killing plans, okay?" Buffy murmured, swinging her legs over the side.

"In my spare time." He grinned, making her roll her eyes.

"_All_ your time is spare, goofball."

"Goofball?" Spike cried. "Oh bloody hell, I'm 'goofball' now? How threatenin' is that?"

"Better than dustball." She shook her head with a cheeky grin.

"True." Spike sat up on the edge of the bed, a few inches beside her, eyes tracking every movement she made as she got to her feet and reached for her clothes.

Buffy slowly got dressed, not caring that he was watching her with faded heat in his eyes. Satiated lover's eyes. Funny how they were the only eyes she'd ever seen look like that. Angel's- never saw the look. Parker's- didn't get there. Riley's- she'd never even noticed of he wore it or not, because she was so busy trying to plaster that look onto her own face, make herself believe she was happy.

"Happy?" She mumbled, watching those eyes watching her move, following her fingers as she finished hooking her bra.

"Yeah. Yeah- as happy goes, I'd say I have some." He grinned crookedly. "An' you? How're _you_ feelin'?" He asked, hand coming to rest lightly on her hip.

Buffy considered. What she was feeling was the tenderness inside her and outside her, swollen breasts with nipples that still refused to soften even though the constant tonguing and teasing was done, slightly sore pelvic area, where hands had gripped and thick swathes of muscle had split her open and never let her remain empty for more than few moments. None of the sensations was unpleasant, but all of it was reminding her what they'd done, and how they'd done it, long, hard, and passionately. Amazingly loving- without the love. And amazingly- that didn't seem too shabby. Spike, whatever else he was, could be, would be- made her feel something, could leave her less than hollow. Each time, a little less hollow, a little more happy. "Feeling better." She smiled. He gave her a smug smile in return, as if to say, "Of course, you were with me, weren't you?"

"I'm going to go straight to class- well, straight to the dorm showers, and get some clothes, and _then_ straight to class. Willow and Oz should be done talking- or- whatever by now. She has class before I do."

"What are you going to tell Red and Wolf Boy? About your all night 'patrol'?" Spike asked, reclining in bed again.

Buffy tried not to look at him, as it totally waylaid any non-sexual comments trying to get out of her brain. "I'll tell them I spent the night in the cemetery. On the tail of some vamp." She stuck her tongue out at him, finger combing her hair.

"Shouldn't that be with some vamp on _your_ tail?" He returned the stuck out tongue, only his curled and flicked like he was burrowing inside of her, whole face a mask of naughtiness.

"Now I know why you sleep during the day. You are actually _more_ obnoxious in daylight. And here I didn't think that was even possible." Buffy put her hands on her hips.

"You're a real peach, Luv." Spike arched his back, thrusting his hips up. "Speaking of peaches, the one between your-"

"Spike. Stop." Buffy slugged his arm. "I was in a good mood. Which considering the sniffling, miserable Buffy of last night, I don't want to ruin it." And amazingly, yet again, he stopped.

_God damn her. Look at me. Fuckin' lap dog. I'm not hers, I'm Dru's, if I'm anyone's, and still no well bred nancy boy knight errant. I listen to _Dru_, I love Dru, thats' why I try to give her what she needs, what she asks for- an' look where it's got me. Chipped. Alone. Makin' love, yes, 'makin' love'`, to a Slayer who I came to drain dry an' restore my gorgeous night flower._ "You can't take a joke, Slayer, get the hell out." Spike's voice hardened, and he slid under the sheets with a scowl.

"Can vampires take mood stabilizers? Because you so need one." Buffy gaped at him as he abruptly tore himself out of their conversation.

"Shove off." He muttered, rolling away from her, staring at the craggy stone wall.

"Jerk." Buffy muttered, trying to ignore the ache his sudden attitude change caused.

"Bitch." He huffed.

"Hey! We were just- you know-being friend-like. Then you go all mental patient on me and I'm-"

"I'm not your fuckin' little lap dog, Slayer." Spike sat up and faced, nostrils flared and eyes enraged. "I might be chipped an' I might not have hurt you during any of our recent wild shag-a-thons, but-"

"I know you're not my lap dog! As if you could ever be that obedient and affectionate!" Buffy cut him off with a shout.

"Damn straight! I gave her all she needed, you said that, you even admitted it!"

"I know what I said, why are you wigging?" Buffy demanded as she dropped to her knees on the bed, going chest to chest, head to head with him.

Spike was almost spitting in his fury. "I don't do that for _you_, Slayer. I did that for her. For Dru. So when you said stop-"

"I said stop because you were being all gross. I thought I'd just said, it wasn't all about sex, I like- being with you. Not just for the sex, but because you get stuff, and I don't have to act different than I want to act." Buffy met his eyes and then dropped her gaze a fraction before looking back up with angry eyes. "Then you! With the thrusty hips, and the sex jokes, and the personal remarks." She blushed and subtly pressed her knees together.

" 'Cause I like to be with you, too, Pet. An' once you stop bein' such a whiny tight ass, you can make me laugh a bit, an' I was hopin' to return the favor. God knows you an' I don't have much to laugh about in the particular little sitcoms of lives we're cursed with."

"So you were acting like an immature frat boy because you want me to laugh?" She demanded incredulously.

"Don't compare me to those wankers." Spike snarled. "But, yes, I s'pose you could see it like that- since you're so very prim an' proper when it suits you. You'd think Rupert'd tell you more about vamps, and less about manners."

"I'm going to ignore that last part. Actually- most of that, except for the part about you admitting you were jerky." Buffy waved her hand dismissively.

"Fine. We'll move to you going Princess Bitch on me 'cause you thought I was reducing this to mere sex- which is confusin' as hell, 'cause I thought we were headin' that way-" He shrugged and rolled his shoulders as he sighed, "but I admit we found somethin' a little cozier. I'm not stupid, Luv."

"You are."

He closed his eyes for a second to fight off the urge to bite her or shag her, he wasn't sure which. "Shut up, Slayer. As I was sayin', I'm not stupid- I could fuck Harmony if I wanted somethin' to get my rocks off with. Prefer you." He looked at her with as much disdain as he could hold while she was so close to him, talking to him like he was a - well, as close to a friend as you can get. He'd missed that since Dru was gone.

Buffy paused, before saying "Thank you." in a soft, slightly uncomfortable voice.

"Welcome." He said in the same tone.

"I seriously think we have too much emotional baggage." She sighed regretfully.

"No shit, Slayer." Spike snorted his agreement.

"And other baggage. Which you deserve. You and your evilness."

"Aww, Luv, you called me evil." Spike crooned, and made her laugh again. "Yeah, we got plenty of baggage, deserved an' undeserved." Still close to her, he dipped his head, and leaned in, speaking against her cheek. "I know what'll take your mind off it."

"I'll be late for class." Buffy's breathing quickened, feeling his naked chest on her clothed one.

"Now who's focused on sex?" He touched her hand lightly, trying to warn her not to take it seriously, that he just wanted her to relax. "The Rialto's playin' Frankenstein tonight. I'll bring my flask. You bring that damn sugar water you like. We'll sneak in-"

"We will pay at the desk!"

"I'll meet you inside the theater." Spike compromised. "An' then back here?"

"Frankenstein? That's so lame."

"It fits with the Adam motif, Luv. You can tell the Watcher you're researchin'."

Buffy got a dimpled half smile. "Okay... I mean- no. No, seriously, I can't. There's something big brewing and-"

"And you never skived off before?"

"Never what?"

"Bunked off."

"Sleepovers?"

"Oh bloody hell. You never skipped out on somethin' to have a little fun?"

"Sometimes. Usually with really, really bad consequences." Buffy winced.

"Worse than me?" Spike asked.

"Hm. Gotta point there." Buffy crawled backwards off the bed with a quick shove and bounce, finding the naked Spike-ness too tempting. "I have to see how the day goes. Willow probably has a tone of stuff to tell me." Buffy hugged herself, trying to let happiness win over her own feelings of loss.

"Yeah. Prob'ly." Spike pulled a pillow over his lower torso and groin and held it there, feeling his own pain. "Good for her, right?"

"Right. I'm happy for her. Really."

"I know you are. You're good like that."

Buffy froze as she was in mid turn, finally trying to tear herself away, like she'd tried to do ten minutes ago._ Yeah. I'm good like that. The good girl. With her happy life. And her broken heart, her stupid sacred duty that'd lead to a nice premature death, and her nice, normal, happy boyfriend who turned out to be colder and less understanding than the vampire who'd tried to kill her for part of the last two years._

"You alright?" Spike watched her freeze and her face clench and unclench. "Slayer?"

"I don't know what I want to do tonight." She murmured, mostly to herself. She jumped when a hand touched the back of her neck.

"I'll be around." He assured.

Warmth flooded through her. So simple. So uncomplicated. Okay, maybe it could get complicated with this new idea of "making love" and feeling what it was like- at least physically. For once in her life, she decided to keep it easy, no strings attached, do what felt good, enjoy what she wanted. With Spike, because he was the same way. No unreasonable expectations for the future, and no pushing her to get over the past.

"I know you will." Buffy briefly caught his hand in her own and gave it a squeeze. "See you soon."

"I know you will." He replied quietly, and watched her climb the ladder and disappear.

_To be continued... _


	5. Chapter 5

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A __sequel to__ "__Uncontrollable__"__. Please __read __that __first, __or __this __won__'__t __make __much __sense. __Begins __about __a __week __after __the__ "__Uncontrollable__" __version __of __the __incidents __at __the __Lowell __House __in __Where __the __Wild __Things __Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's note- I may have portrayed Riley as darker than he should be- but on the other hand, in this version of events, he's witnessed Spike and Buffy's "relationship" begin, so it's probably feasible. _

_Dedicated to ginar369, jaimee001, Vera Snape- Evans, Searching-For-My-Reason, Sirius 120, DLillith21, lil-leti, Vrolok, and Dreylin_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part V

Buffy started jogging across the dewey grass of Restfield, and slowly slowed to a walk. She felt hot and sticky and her hair was- surprisingly not a matted mess. _Because Spike loves to stroke my hair. Wow. That's- creepy. Then again, I guess I can't blame him. I can't keep my hands off of him either. Any of him. Which leads us back to sticky and hot._

She broke off her thoughts with a blush. She was probably going to have to come with a better excuse than patrolling all night, especially in light of what they'd been talking about at the Scooby meeting last night- the whole lack of slayage. Great... what was a realistic reason to stay out all night in a slay-free zone and return looking like you'd ran a marathon? Wait a minute- Willow probably wouldn't even notice. If Angel had rolled into town saying he wanted to meet up with her and talk... well, she knew that she personally wouldn't have noticed if Willow turned up covered in mud and singing opera at the top of her lungs. If Angel ever came back- came to find her and say he wanted to stay... no, she wouldn't notice anything but him.

Buffy tried to force a smile on her face. At least one couple was reunited. Willow and Oz probably had a wonderful night, and weren't thinking of anything else in the world...

_Earlier that morning..._

Willow lightly traced the pattern on a beautiful scarf Oz had brought her from his travels. Her big green eyes met his with an awed look. "So that's it? You keep your cool, and no more wolfie?"

Oz shook his head as he lounged across from her. "No, there's more. I take some herbs and stuff. Some chanting. A couple of charms." He raised his hand to show the beads on a string wrapped around it, trailing up his wrist.

Willow's eyes shone. "It's incredible. You've been all around the world. You've had this ... complete mind/body transformation. I've just been here." She chuckled softly. "Same old Sunnydale." _Yeah. Same old town. But- but not the same old me. How can a few months seem like a lifetime? I guess when you're broken hearted every minute seems like an hour. And then when you start to heal- when you start to find happiness again, it all moves in slow motion. Like you're scared it'll disappear if you move too fast._

"Doesn't mean you haven't gone through a lot." Oz regarded with his usual cool perception.

"It's true. Some of it, you know, was me telling myself I hated you and cursing your name. Not literally." She clarified, sitting up straighter.

"Well, thanks for that." He smiled that slight smile that always said so much without saying anything. Willow's stomach tightened in an ache that she thought was finally done hurting. She tried to keep talking, distract herself.

"And, I don't know, I - I think I'm getting better at my spells and stuff." She exchanged another look with him, and then broke off with a fidget, looking at the window. "It's so light out." Her mind whirled. _I thought I'd never watch another night fade into day with him. And now. Here he is. Why am I all confusion girl?_

In her multitude of emotions, Willow never even gave a second thought to the vacant bed or the roommate that should have been in it. She returned her focus to Oz.

Oz didn't fidget. He was too laid back to fidget. "Yeah, we talked all night." He said simply.

"Well, I believe a manly sized breakfast is in order, don't you?" Willow forced herself to sound bright and confident.

"Or we could just..." he tenderly touched her arm with a meaningful look, "sleep a little while." Willow gave him a pained, nervous look. "Whatever you want." He comforted easily.

"I'll have the less confusing waffles right now." She smiled after a split second of indecision, and again the ache smote her. He was always like that. Simply, quietly honest, not outspoken, not pressuring her. But loving. Caring.

Oz smiled again, softly. "Breakfast it is." Both of them slowly stood, easing cramped muscles.

"Lemme just- uh- freshen up." Willow muttered and grabbed her toiletry kit and left the room. His smile never left her. And oddly enough- it wasn't his smile she wished she was seeing. She was so confused, so achey in her heart and her brain- and all she wanted was comfort. Open, warm, demonstrative comfort. That comfort had a name. And it had a beautiful smile, with a dimple in her buttercream cheek, and shy eyes...

Oz watched her go down the hall and then shut the door softly. As he began cleaning up the items scattered all over her bed, a knock sounded at the door.

* * *

><p>Tara was trying not to shake inside. She knew she shouldn't be there. She knew- she knew it was too new with Willow. They hadn't even- She bit her lip and blushed guiltily. Still- Willow was going through stuff. Making a choice, and making choices could be hard. She'd need a friend, so she was there. Even if she was there only, always as a just a friend.<p>

Tara knocked hesitantly on the dorm door- and tried not to look too shocked to see Oz opening it. Oz in rumpled clothes. Oz standing in front of a rumpled bed.

" Oh, sorry, I-I-I'll come back." She stuttered. She guessed Willow had made her choice more quickly than she'd thought.

" Are you looking for Willow? She's just in the bathroom down the hall." Oz said, natural polite, if staid friendliness in every line of his body as he recognized the new "Scoobie".

"No, no. No, it's- it's okay." She backed away, trying to sound collected, trying not to start crying like a selfish baby. Willow could still be her friend, and her heart didn't have to hurt because Willow was happy. Willow's boyfriend had told her he would come back when he found a cure for his problems. She and Willow had discussed it as they'd gotten to be friends, they'd cried over it, eaten chocolate over it. Then they'd forgotten about the coming back part. At least- Tara flushed in a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment-_ she'd_ forgotten all about it.

"I saw you at Giles' yesterday." Oz held out his hand, not to shake, to stay her.

"Yeah. Sometimes Willow takes me with her to the S-scoobies." Tara explained.

"You sure you don't wanna come in?"

By this time, tears threatened to surface. Tara mutely shook her head and bolted. Oz watched her go, confusion on his face as he shut the door.

* * *

><p>Willow opened the door to find Oz still looking puzzled. "What?" She asked, tilting her head.<p>

"Your friend came by. The blonde girl? But she wouldn't stay." He turned to grab his coat with a shrug. "So what do you think? Where you wanna go?"

Willow never heard him. Her heart was twisting too loudly to hear anything but the confusion inside.

* * *

><p>Buffy knocked loudly. Nothing. "Will? Um- Oz- maybe?" She cautiously poked her head inside the dorm room. "Oh man. Yes- Willow and Oz-age." She smiled and giggled once looking at the rumpled bed, piles of clothes and random stuff pushed to the foot of the bed and the floor. She could smell a faint scent that she knew was Oz's, even though it had no particular smell. It just struck her that it was his, that she'd gotten used to smelling it on Willow's clothes- some blend of deodorant, organic hair products and guitar polish- and she realized she hadn't smelt it in a very long time. "Well, that saves me making up an awkward explanation."<p>

Buffy hurried and grabbed her shower supplies and laid out some fresh clothes, stripping out of hers and stepping into her robe and shower flip flops. She grabbed the laundry in her arm and went to put it in the hamper.

That was when she noticed it. "Oh. My. God. No way." She gasped and sniffed her clothes she held. Her clothes had a faint aroma of Spike- smoke, leather, cold stone... hot sex. _No. We don't have that kind of- thing. There's no thing! I shouldn't have his scent on me._ Buffy indulged in a moment of disgust and panic, tossing the clothes away from her. And then shook her head with an angry flounce. _Screw it. So what if I do? I should. I spent the night with him. I've spent part of every night this week with him. And he's there for me, and he lets me be whoever the hell I want to be and doesn't ask for anything back. He actually makes me feel... better._

As if her hands were acting on their own, she reached back into the wicker laundry hamper and seized her sweater, held it to her face and inhaled. The knot in her stomach loosened, the one that had formed when she entered the room and saw the evidence of a happy reunion between her best friend and her lost lover- the knot that was forming as unselfish happiness warred with selfish longing. She inhaled again, and then tossed the sweater away with a resolute straightening of her spine. She could be happy for Wills and be totally unselfish best friend gal all day and most of the night. And then go get some pain relief, some cold comfort, later. Buffy shut the door firmly behind her, ready to tackle the day.

* * *

><p>Tara wished whoever was knocking would just go away. But they didn't, so she wearily uncurled from the cocoon of pillows on her bed and opened the door of her dorm room.<p>

"Hi." Willow greeted her cautiously.

"Hi." Tara said in the same careful tone. She immediately stepped back so Willow could come in, and then closed the door after her.

"I can only stay for a minute. I have class." Willow began.

" Me too, I-I have class too."

"I just want you to know that what you saw this morning, it wasn't-" She groped for a sentence that would explain but not sound - weird. She wanted to blurt out "I didn't sleep with him, we only talked, I was faithful to you." But there wasn't anything to be faithful about, not exactly.

Tara put her friend, her so quickly come to be so dear friend, out of her misery. "No, it's okay. I-I always knew that if he came back-"

Okay, blurtin' time, Willow thought. "We were just talking. Nothing happened."

In spite of herself, Tara got a hopeful smile on her pale pink lips. "Oh." She paused. "Really?" What did that mean?

Willow nodded, trying to form her next sentence honestly. "But, you know, it was intense. Just talking. We have a lot to talk about." She frowned, the aches in her tangled mind and struggling heart bouncing around inside her. "I kinda feel like my head's gonna explode." She finally confessed.

Tara struggled for a moment. She'd always been shy. Self-sacrificing. Weak, even. and this part was the hard part. Being strong. But when you- when you love someone- you just have to do it. "Whatever, you know, happens ... I'll still be here. I'll still be your friend." She managed to say, managed not to cry.

Willow was incensed, indignant. "Of course we'll be friends! That's not even a question." Tara was- Tara was sunshine and earth and power and life. Tara was- everything that a person needed to survive. Metaphysically speaking.

"But I'm saying, I know what Oz means to you." Tara's tears threatened to overflow as she fought the words out of her mouth even though her heart felt like it was filling her throat with a lump.

"How can you, when I'm not even sure? I mean, I know what he _meant_ to me. But he left, and... everything changed. I changed, and... then we-" She trailed off. _We what? We held hands? We talked, we touched, we laughed, we were happy together? It's not the same as dating. It's not the same at all._

Tara waited only a second before she prodded her friend along, needing to hear the end of that sentence. "What?"

Willow was surprised that she cracked first. She thought Tara would. Tara was strong- but softer, more sensitive. It had been nice to be the stronger one in the friendship for once. But here she was, starting to cry. " I don't know. I just - life was starting to get so good again, and-" She moved closer to that warm comfort she wanted. "You're a big part of that." She felt tears splashing her cheeks and knew it was about to break loose for real. "And here comes the thing I wanted most of all, and... I don't know what to do, I ... I wanna know, but I don't."

Her poor, sweet, brave, strong Willow. Tara bit her lip and her own softening eyes spilled over as she brushed the tears from Willow's cheek. "Do what makes you-" she gulped down the sob that she was holding, " h-h-happy." _Because I love you. I want you to be happy. Even if I'm dying inside..._

Willow wept in her arms, feeling soft hands stroke her hair, like a lover, like a friend, even like a mother would comfort a child. Although she couldn't swear to it. Her own mother had never done that. She hadn't been much on touching, much on any comforting... She dug her fingers into the soft curve of Tara's back and bit her lip to keep from bawling. _How can I let this go? Why- when I finally let him go- does he come back- and leave me with just enough room for one? How can I choose?_

Tara's lips brushed against her hairline soothingly, chastely. "Shhh. Shhh." She whispered through her own tears.

"I just- I just don't know what to do..." Willow shivered in her grief.

"I know." Tara eased her hand along the back of her head.

Willow pulled back, looking at her- suddenly so close- face to face- almost lip to lip. "I can't lose you, too." Willow gasped out in an airless whisper.

"You won't." Tara blinked through her own tears. "No matter what. I'll b-be here."

Willow swallowed noisily. That was something she had been waiting a very, very long time to hear. "Good." She wrapped her arms around her more tightly and they rocked side to side, unspeaking.

* * *

><p>Oz paused in front of a wall with housing flyers and ads for the local bands. This was going to be nice. The way it should be. School. Dingoes. The old crowd. Willow. Willow? "Willow!" He wrinkled his nose and smiled as he caught her scent. Only- it wasn't.<p>

Tara froze. Willow? Willow was probably at the library by now. Who was calling for- oh.

Oz walked up to the blonde with a half-smile, a puzzled air about him. "Hey. I thought I sm- uh, heard Willow."

Tara clutched her books more tightly to her chest. Her guilt threatened to overflow. They hadn't done anything but hug- and hold- and- and she wished it hadn't ever come to an end. But it had, and Willow had gone to class, leaving her sweater behind. And now she wore it, wanting to feel something of Willow's wrapped around her. "Uh-" She couldn't tell Oz about that obviously, so she said the first thing her mind attached to. "Hey." she pointed her chin at the books in Oz's hands. "You're um, you're coming back to school here, huh?"

" Pretty much. Feeling ... oddly motivated." Oz's confused frown deepened and he sniffed again.

Tara felt her heart stab. He was back. Not just in town, but on campus. It couldn't last for her. Whatever the new thing with Willow was. Not when your lover comes back and offers you a second chance to have what you really want... But she forced out the words, "That's um- that's great. I mean, that's- that's great for you and Willow, right?"

" I hope so." He twitched his head slightly.

" Good, that's good, because-" _Oh no. What do I say? Good, because I love her too and want her to be happy?_

"Is that her sweater?" Oz finally latched onto a detail.

Tara stammered and looked down. "I just -I just hope that you guys'll be very ... happy."

Oz ignored her words, moving closer. "You smell like her." Tara still didn't look up, fidgeting nervously. "She's all over you, do you know that?" An angry edge manifested in his voice.

" I can't. I-I can't talk about this." She stammered and tried to walk away, but he grabbed her back, forcing her to look at him.

" But there's something to talk about?" For one of the few times in his stoical life, he felt rage forming. "Are you two involved?" He demanded harshly.

" I have- I- I have to go." Tara gasped out, feeling the grip become painful, and feeling scared because she honestly didn't know what to say.

But Oz was undeterred." 'Cause she never said anything to me like that. We talked all night and she never-" Tara squirmed and he yanked her back. "No, stop!" Tara looked frightened, but it didn't even register with him. Blood pounded in his ears, in his veins. "Is she in love with you? Tell me, is she?" He shook Tara hard, hands on her shoulders- and knew he was hurting her. Hurting an innocent woman. And that wasn't like him. That was like-

Tara followed his gaze to the hand on her shoulders, eyes widening in terror at what she saw. The hand was changing. No longer human, more animal- claws pushed out, hair slowly formed. She dragged her staring eyes up to his- and gasped.

The wolf was back. Oz felt his eyes open wider and go black, felt his jaw changing painfully, becoming canine, not human. With a final burst of self-restraint he warned her. "Run."

She ran. She knew he was right behind her. Could feel him, hear him, and she knew she wasn't going to get away, not if he wanted her bad enough. And in the midst of the danger- what thought was she having? _If he hurts me, Willow looses both of us. I don't want her to be left alone... I have to stop him. I have to- to do something, a spell, or something, just to hold him off. He can't kill me. Willow will lose everything. I can't break her heart- even if- even if it's not mine to break. I can't let it break over him either..._

Her frantic run had led her into an unused classroom, up the flight os stairs in the lecture hall trying to get out the back door, get outside where he couldn't follow her so easily. Because he certainly was following her easily so far. Panting, Tara made it to the backdoor, only to find it locked. With a gasp she turned-

He was right on top of her. Slavering, clawing, snarling. She shrieked and threw a chair- and he toppled.

"What? How?" Tara looked at the suddenly crumpled form before her. A little chair couldn't have done that to a werewolf...

" Are you okay?" A voice startled Tara and she looked up, rattled and scared, to see one of Riley's friends standing in the doorway.

"What's going on?" She managed to ask.

"We'll take it from here." Forrest answered her, without answering her at all. "Bring the bag." He motioned to several Initiative soldiers who moved like a silent machine, slipping beside the werewolf with a long black plastic bag.

"This thing looks like it may be one of the demons that took out Graham's guys the other night." One soldier said.

" We'll take it back. We'll make an ID. If it is, we'll put him down." Forrest answered, giving he unconscious body a kick.

Tara gasped and gulped in horror. No. Oh, no, Oz wasn't like that, he never hurt anyone. This couldn't happen. Oh, this was all her fault! "You don't understand, th-th-that's-" Her voice and hands shook as she tried to explain.

" Listen, we know what we're doing. You're in shock." Forrest addressed her in a patronizing tone.

" But-" Tara frantically shook her head.

"We'll handle it." His voice left no room for argument. "Let's move." He rolled his fist and instantly the bag was hoisted and the men were gone.

Tara stood frozen in horror, watching them leave. "No." She gasped out.

* * *

><p>Willow could get no work done. She flipped through pages at a big wooden table in the campus library, but she wasn't really reading. How could she read when all the letters kept rearranging themselves into the names of the two people she had let into her heart? Oz. Tara. Oz. Tara. "Tara?" Willow looked up startled. The object of her musings was suddenly in front of her, trembling and breathing hard, looking scared and worried. "Tara? What's up? You okay?" She reached her hands to her friend, rising from her chair.<p>

Tara shook her head, panting. "Oz. We were talking and he changed. Right in front of me."

"What? It's daylight." She protested.

"I know, but it happened." Tara insisted.

" Oh my God, are you all right?" Her heart did a sudden quickstep at the thought of Tara being mauled- or worse.

" I'm fine. A friend of Riley's- I think his name is Gates- and the commando guys, they stopped him. But they don't know it's Oz. I tried to tell them, but- they took him away."

" When? Just now?" Her mind moved sluggishly, fear slowing it down. Oz. Captured. Oz finally back. Oz captured by evil scientists. Does not compute. She stared stupidly at Tara, horror in her eyes.

"I think they might hurt him." Tara whispered.

" I- I have to go, I have to find Buffy." Willow said hollowly, already beginning to turn away.

"I know." Tara watched her jog away.

* * *

><p>Buffy heard Willow long before she saw her, but she didn't know who it was. Her Slayer senses registered panting, just this side of sobbing, breaths, running footsteps, and shuddering gasps.<em> Woman in trouble. Running from something.<em> She pushed herself out of her chair in the dorm's study area and started moving towards the sound. That was when she saw Willow making straight for her. _Uh-oh. Woman in trouble, running _to_ something. Me._ "Will!"

"Buffy!" Willow seized her arms as she came skidding into the room, wild eyed and flushed. "Oh my God, Buffy!" She started half-sobbing, clutching her friend's hands. "They got Oz."

"What? Who?"

"Initiative. Riley's friends. Because of- what he is."

The world according to Buffy telescoped down to a single thought. _No. Because- because he came back for her. He didn't stay gone. He came back to unbreak her heart, and he can't go away again. They can't take him away._

The world rushed back to panoramic view. "When? Why? How'd they know?" She demanded, in full slay mode. She started marching upstairs, Willow in tow. _Weapons. Lots and lots of weapons, 'cause I'm gonna put a considerable amount of hurt on these idiots when I find them._

"Tara told me- a-about ten minutes ago- they got him right before she found me, s-so maybe twenty minutes, thirty minutes ago?" Willow wrung her hands, internal agonies of guilt washing over her in waves. _This is all my fault. He came back for me. To this big demon catch-a-thon that the Initiative is sponsoring._ Her silent scrambled panic became vocal as she followed Buffy inside their room. "And- and I don't know what happened but Tara said the wolf came out, and that didn't happen for no reason at all. It happened here. It happened because of me, or something to do with me, because he had it under control, Buffy! He could keep the wolf in, you saw him last night on a wolf moon and -no wolf. He was here all night and no wolf! But now- now they have him and who knows what-" Willow broke off in a sob. "Who knows what'll happen to him? I'll die if anything happens to him." _Because I love him. I don't know- I don't think- that I'm _in_ love with him, not now, not anymore, not like I was. Because the worry would be so much worse. But I still love him so much, and this is all my fault, and I'll die if he dies- because of me... what he did for me._ "Buffy- I can't live if he- if anything happens to him." She repeated, voice higher and more constricted with pain.

"Then nothing's happening to him." Buffy said with grim determination. "You get the others. Start the brainstorming with everyone at Giles's." She shouldered a bag that she had been cramming with weapons as Willow poured out her worries.

"What are you doing? You can't go storming in there with a bag full of weapons and demand Oz back." Willow cried. "I mean- can you?"

"Only if I have to." Buffy smiled faintly, no joy in it. "But I'm not storming in there. Not yet. I'm going to go see Riley."

Willow bit her lip. "Riley? Buffy, he-"

"He has power we don't have. I don't know how much he has over anyone else down there, but he has a hell of a lot better chance than I do at getting in and getting out." Buffy yanked open the door and began trotting down the hall. "This isn't about me, this is about you. And he's always liked you."

Willow followed silently, trying to think of something to say, something that would express the gratitude she felt. Being a hero? Well, that was Buffy personified. Being a hero via asking for help from your really unsympathetic ex who really probably hates your guts right now? Whole new levels of brave. "Thank you." Willow finally whispered.

"Don't even." Buffy squeezed her hand. "We're getting him back. He's finally come home. _No one_ is ruining this for us." Buffy caught her Freudian slip with a an imperceptible wince. _Okay, so yeah. This is for all of us. For me and Angel. Even for Spike and Dru. But I don't need to go all symbolism girl. Not now._ "I mean- all of us are so happy to see him come home. A-and we're not letting anything happen to him. Go. Scooby round up." She hugged Willow hard, ending the embrace with a little shove. She ran before the redhead could say another word, well aware there was no time to waste.

* * *

><p>Riley looked at his very late lunch, or very early dinner as he put it out on his desk in the corner of his room. Pudding cup. Jello. Applesauce. But man, so much better than a liquid diet. He'd just come back from the infirmary, jaw unwired but stiff and semi-immobile. He'd have to sleep in some kind of jaw neck wrap for the next couple weeks, but he was impressed. He thought broken bones would take much longer to heal. He credited the good army vitamin plans and healthy living. Which would be much healthier now that certain people weren't around.

"Here we go." He said through clenched teeth, working a spoon in to his mouth for the first time in a week. He ate and tried not to obsess on the reason why he was reduced to eating the equivalent of baby food. Don't think about her. How much you loved her. How she was so amazing, how she was your kind of girl, a demon fighter... Yeah, especially don't think about that last part. 'Cause that part apparently has a loophole. Vampire slayer, sure. Probably some ancient destiny clause about being able to pick one vampire every year to keep for herself. A cosmic rewards package for killing so many...

"Riley?" Buffy's voice startled him out of his jerked his head up, sure he was just having an auditory hallucination from thinking about her so much. But no. She was standing in the door to his room- his room which he'd had completely refurnished, fumigated, and scrubbed, because she and that vampire had broken the bed and otherwise desecrated it.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Riley asked in a hiss, partially out of necessity, partly because he was furious she'd ever waltz into this house again. Into his room in particular.

"I'm not thrilled either, but this isn't about you and me." Buffy sighed and walked into the room, trying to look severe and commanding. Inside, her stomach did flip flops. This room was the scene of so many big moments in her recent life. Her first time with Riley. Almost all of her times with Riley. So sweet, so sincere, he made her feel- normal. She loved that. She almost fooled herself into thinking she was loving_ him._

This was where he'd been with Faith. Put the first gash in their relationship, and she'd forgiven it. This was where the house had taken over her...forced her to- well, it wasn't like it had hurt her. Not physically. The second gash happened here, and Riley wouldn't forgive it. No wonder he was staring at her like that. That mixture of pain and anger.

"What's this about then?" Riley rose from his desk, soft foods shoved aside hastily.

"Willow."

"Willow?" His expression softened. Willow was nice, sweet, kind, helpful. She'd tried to help him woo Buffy. It wasn't her fault Buffy was secretly some sort of monster loving deviant.

"And Oz. Her boyfriend." Buffy twisted her hand and tried not to stare at the bed. Tried not to think about what happened in it. Spike taught her so much. She had a lot of firsts in that bed, and none of them were really related to the man who it belonged to. "Um. Yeah, Willow thinks it was Gates who caught him. But it doesn't really matter. What matters is that he's harmless and they're in love and he finally came home after months apart- and we can't let him get hurt."

"Whoa." Riley almost smiled for a second, listening to her run on. She was so cute when she did that. He'd always found that so adorable. He shook his head. "Am I missing something? Gates? Forrest? Why would he catch Willow's boyfriend? And what do you mean by 'caught' anyway?"

"Oz is a werewolf." Buffy explained. "He can control the wolf side now, but I guess he changed and they saw him, so they-"

"I'm sorry, back up." Riley cut her off with a shake of his sandy head. "Werewolf? Willow? But she's so sweet. I mean, I _thought_ she was. This is the same guy, the guy she was so broken up over last semester? She almost walked in front of a car for a _werewolf_?"

"Willow _is_ sweet! And so is Oz! Maybe not very verbal, but mega sweet, and nice, and brave! He'd do anything for Willow! He left her to go find a cure and as soon as he did-" Buffy swallowed audibly, "he came home to her. To- to fix it, so they could be together again." She wiped at her eyes suddenly.

Riley watched her in disbelief. Crying over the mere thought of a werewolf coming home to his girlfriend. Wow. "I never thought Willow'd be that stupid. She had me fooled."

"What?" Buffy glared. "Willow? Stupid? Try 'genius'!"

"Oh, she might be brainy, but all of you- you're all stupid. The way you take risks..." He ground out, stepping closer to her. "Willow and a werewolf. Xander with a demon. You- and your vampires."

Her eyes flashed. "Don't you even bring up what happened in this room, I know you don't believe-"

"No, I know _you_ don't know anything about what I believe anymore." Riley cut her off angrily. "I wanted to believe he manipulated you somehow. That the house made you act like that. And then I saw what you and the vamp do in your spare time." He looked sick and disgusted with her, even taking a half step away.

Buffy felt color soaring into her cheeks. "You were spying on us?" She couldn't deny that she'd spent time with Spike after the house incident, weird as that seemed. She wondered how much he'd seen, and where, and what exactly. Just walking together? Or getting into the back of his car?

"No, I was looking for him. Seeing you start making out with him in front of his crypt and the head inside with him was a vey unwanted extra."

The one part of her brain not devoted to mortification or anger made a note to tell Spike that he was right. They were after him. "You don't know anything about that." She finally whispered under his accusing silence.

"I know you went inside his crypt. I know you were kissing him. Not under a spell, not then." Riley laughed bitterly. "You always make excuses, Willow had a spell, the house was evil, he had a soul. The truth is, you like vampires. You probably hate to slay them. It kind of makes sense, from a psych standpoint now that I think about it. You spend every night chasing them, getting physical with them, until you shove something hard and pointed inside their hearts and make them burst. Let's talk phallic representation."

Buffy staggered back a step, shaking her head. The way he talked- it didn't even sound like the same person she knew. "Why are you acting like this?" She asked, face beginning to crumple. "I hate them. I've never, ever thought about demons or vampires like that. Angel wasn't about- any of that stuff. It was about being in love with a good man, with a good heart, who tried so hard to atone for his past." Her eyes flooded again.

"So what's your excuse for Spike?" Riley spat.

"I don't need an excuse for him." She whispered. "You already know what happened, but you can think whatever you want. You can think I'm repressed, or I've got penis envy, or maybe there's a diagnosis for being a slayer." She felt the mixture of embarrassment, sadness, and anger melting into just anger as she remembered her purpose for the visit. "I know that I've killed more vampires than you ever will kill in your life, even if I stop now and you live to be a hundred. And I know there are exceptions to rules- there's weird stuff in life- like vampires with souls, or vampires who can love, or girls who swap bodies and men who get turned into demons." She thought of Angel, Spike, Faith, and Giles in a flood of rage at what kind of suck-tacular year she'd had. "And I know that none of it matters right now. Your guys captured a person I care about. I want him back."

"He's not a exactly a person if he's a werewolf."

"He's a person as much- maybe more- than you are, Riley. More than that, he's learned how to control the wolf, and even when he hadn't, he never hurt anyone!" She paced in a tight circle. "I don't understand how you can condemn him to be a lab guinea pig, how you can look at him for three nights of the month- thirty six nights a year, and ignore that fact that he's HUMAN the rest of the three hundred some days!"

"It's those pesky thirty six, Buffy. Still too many days to let someone kill people."

"Urgggh!" She threw up her hands. "He's never killed ANYONE, Riley. You act like he deliberately decided to torture himself by living an incredibly painful, difficult to manage life. But all he ever did was accidentally get bitten by someone- and there are some things you can't control. Some things you can't help. Sometimes things happen to a person and it wasn't their choice but they make the best of it!" She ended up in front of him, shouting, not just about Oz, but about herself.

He didn't shout back. His voice was grave, sad. "I know all about your 'uncontrollable' problems, Buffy, - they're all lies. You wanted that vamp and you took him. Not just here. But you're still doing it a week later. Who's in control of you now?"

Buffy didn't answer, couldn't answer, couldn't justify it, and didn't really want to. Before she could muster up a defiant retort, he continued speaking.

"As for this Oz guy- for three nights a month, he's a killing machine, no matter what you say, that's what he is. If you want help- ask your new boyfriend, because I'm done looking the other way about your so called 'harmless' demons. I'm sure Spike would love to help his new girlfriend save an infectious monster who spreads his demonic properties with his fangs- they'll have so much in common."

"Are they feeding you stupid pills as well as painkillers?" Buffy was aghast. "I've never heard you talk like this! No matter how mad you are, there's an innocent life at stake!"

"Never sounded like this, huh? Never had my girlfriend start dating a soulless vampire and cheat on me with a CORPSE before!"

"You are insane! He's- Spike and I aren't dating, he's not my boyfriend, he's not my lover, he's- he's helping us. He's helping us with things that you ought to help us with, but you took a trip down to 'not thinking, not listening, not caring-ville'!"

"Hey, if he's helping you out, he can help you out with this, too." Riley pushed her roughly aside and opened the door. "Speaking of helping you out, allow me." He swept his hand towards the open door. His eyes fixed her with a gimlet stare. " You were mad at me for not knowing the 'real you'. And you know what- you were right. I didn't, and I don't want to. I thought you saved the world from the monsters- here it turns out you like to keep the pretty ones for pets. All of you. How many vampires do you fuck before you stake them?"

Buffy blushed. It was like Riley didn't know, even though he did, that he was only her third lover. That their first time together had only been her third time. Ever. She'd been so good at waiting for Angel, for his memory, until she thought Parker was sincere with his "make a choice, no regrets" crap. Until she gave into trying to be normal one more time, and let Riley in. The fourth person she'd been with- she didn't even love, she didn't even want him to ever touch her in the first place. And the good man, the kind man- didn't care, didn't believe her, didn't offer her any comfort. The bad man, the evil man- held her and let her cry.

"I don't have time for this, Riley." She finally choked out. "Someone I care about is in danger, and you want to stand around and call me a slut. Fine. It just proves you don't know me. When you talk like this- I'm glad you never will." She gladly took the exit he offered her, amazed at the bitterness and the hatred she saw in someone so formerly kind and gentle. "You're mad at me. I get that. I'll even say I deserve some of it. But you're the one becoming a monster, Riley, more than Spike is right now."

"I'm nothing like him. You're the one turning into a monster, Buffy, sleeping with vamps, saving werewolves. I didn't know you could get turned through bodily fluids besides blood, but it looks like you can." He stepped uncomfortably close to her, his intent was not to cause her pain as much as to cause _Spike_ pain, so in the vampire's absence, he lashed out at her. His mouth came close to her ear. "We'll make sure to test that theory- before we kill him."

No. No, they couldn't kill Spike. It wasn't that he didn't deserve it- but he didn't deserve it for _this_, for comforting her. He didn't even love her- all he'd simply done was try not to hurt her, try to make her pain stop. And for the first act of kindness he'd shown a human in over a century- they wanted to capture him and murder him. Yes, murder. That's how she saw it. Killing the human part of him, that was murder. _Wow. Thinking Spike has a human side. Can this day go any wronger?_ "You want to make someone pay, Riley, you make me do it. He can't even fight you, and you know he never hurt - not lately- you know what I mean! Not in a long time. You know that, because you guys made damn sure of it."

"Shouldn't be too hard to take then. What did you call him all these months? Chipped puppy?" Riley grinned lopsidedly, jaw still stiff.

"Stay away from him." Buffy warned, backing away, suddenly looking like a frightened animal, small, and tensed into a coil.

"Oh my God. You're falling in love with him." Riley's eyes widened. "You're defending him because you actually are starting to love a murdering, blood drinking demon!"

Buffy lashed out and her fist connected hard- knocking him to the floor. She hit the same side of the jaw that had just been broken, and weakened as it was, it didn't shield him much. With a hoarse cry of pain, his cheekbone snapped as well. "I am so not in love with Spike. But I'm really in_ hate_ with _you_." She stormed from the room for the second time in a week, leaving the bedroom, and leaving the same injured ex inside it. "Wow. I gotta stop making a habit of this."

* * *

><p>Spike sat up with a startled cry as his crypt door was jerked open."Are we makin' a habit of this, Luv?" He blinked into the late afternoon sun that backlit the Slayer. "This afternoon drop in? It's fine, but don't come between two and three, alright? <em>Passions<em>, you know."

"Shut up and listen. I need your help." Buffy strode into the room, right up to his chair, and stared down at him.

"Okay...unorthodox opening, but I like it. What d'you need help with, Slayer?" He bucked his hips once and reached out a hand to touch her waist.

"Spike, it's not about sex. Not right now, and I don't need the 'I'm Dru's boy, not yours, so don't ask me not to make jokes' speech, or anything. Please."

_She said please. Bloody hell._ He almost smirked, but then couldn't. The grief smell was back, fresher, more afraid and more panicked. "Alright. You don't act like you're the bossy bitch you are, and I'll stop sarkin' at you. Must be serious for you to come down off your high horse and beg little ol' me for help."

"I'm not begging. I'm asking. Really nicely, because- because I could use the help, alright? Are we gonna make a production about this, or do you think you can shut up for all of two minutes and listen to me?" She crossed her arms in exasperation.

Spike stood and looked at her carefully. "You've been cryin'. An'- an'" He sniffed in. "Army git's been near you?"

"I've been near him. Very near." Buffy showed him her faintly reddened knuckles.

"Well done." He gave her a smattering of applause with a twitch of a smile. "Knew you didn't need my help with that pillock. You can handle that lot an' all his sort."

"Damn straight. Um- the trouble is getting to 'his sort'." She bit her lip before continuing. "So- this is kind of along the same lines as the Adam thing, only it's more of a really, really urgent mission of mercy thing and we have to do it now. As in right now, as in get your ancient coat on and let's get in your car."

Spike blinked. "What in the hell are you askin' me, exactly?"

"I need you to help me get into the Initiative, because I know you got out and you're a sneaky little bleached vampire rat and you worm your way in anywhere."

"Was that a compliment or an insult?" Spike blinked again.

"I think I started with one and then kinda went with a blend, okay?" Buffy raked her hands through her hair. "Help me get into the Initiative labs."

Spike sat down with an arrogant expression and planted his booted feet down firmly, looking as though it would take a force outside of human strength to move him. "Oh no, Slayer. Help is good. I'm all for helpin' you plot an' plan with your little Scooby gang, an' all for helping you take down Franken-wannabe- but I'm not goin' in that hell hole. Need I remind you of my last little forced visit?" Spike gestured to his head.

"They have Oz." Buffy delivered the statement flatly.

"Red's boy?" His dark brows arched in surprise.

"Yeah." Buffy rubbed her arms and looked away from his bright blue eyes for a minute. "Really bad timing, huh? He comes back- they spend the night in each other's arms, no wolf, no bad, just love, just good...and then somehow he let the wolf slip just for a little bit today- just enough for Riley's pals to see him and take him away."

"That's why you're cryin'." Spike stated flatly as he looked at her profile.

Buffy swiped at her eyes hastily. "I'm not. This is not the time to cry, because I'm busy. I have to get him back. Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Look, Slayer, nobility isn't my thing. I'm evil, and I do the good I do for the perks I get. Shoved back into a cell so they can put more little tinker toys in my noggin? Not a perk."

"That's not true. Last night- you came to Giles' because of me. Us." Buffy winced internally. Because it wasn't a ploy, it wasn't a play. And it came out without her knowing it was going to happen.

"Oh, that's ridiculous, there's not an 'us'." Spike scoffed. _Ah, ah, ah. You can lie to the girl all you like- it's when you lie to yourself you start slippin'. And you know there's an 'us'. You weren't alone in all this week, were you? Wasn't your hand bringin' you off. Wasn't you whisperin' sweet comforts, keepin' promises with you..._

"There's not an 'us', fine. There's a 'something'. Okay? You and I keep promises and we do stuff, and we hang out and have the whole 'love's bitch' club to ourselves, co-presidents in it, along with the 'this life is a joke' society , but we'll keep smiling- you as Mr. Big Bad, me as Ms. Chosen One, and both of us not really loving our work right now." Buffy turned a simple declaration into a rant.

"Oi!" Spike got to his feet, offended. "If we have a club _I'm_ the president! You're vice-president or treasurer or somethin'." He sulked, half pouting, eyes slitting.

"Oh, for God's sake, Spike!" Buffy reached into her waistband in a sudden catlike movement and in the next second shoved a stake against his throat.

"Whoa, easy... I'm willin' to consider co-presidency on a trial basis." Spike backed up, neck craning away from her.

"I don't care about that right now." She said with a sinister gleam in her eye, stake tapping against his jugular.

"Uh- know I've been jokin' around about you lackin' basic Slayer schoolin' but you do realize that's in the wrong place to kill me, right?"

"Yes, _idiot_. But it's gonna make a nice, painful hole." She smiled insincere sweetness.

Spike's hand came up slowly and closed gently on her wrist. "No need for that, Buffy."

Her real name. The magic word. Buffy's hand lowered inside of his grip. "Okay. So you'll help?"

"Soldiers an' I-" Spike trailed off, looking pained and uncomfortable.

"Spike, Oz and Willow-they're getting the chance we won't get." Buffy dropped the stake to the floor between them, fingers suddenly pressing into his palm. "Lovers can come back..." She looked up into his pained, pale face. "Sometimes."

Oh damn it, he had to look right into her eyes just then and see a world of unshed tears and spiraling pain and grief... with an almost burnt out flicker of hope. Goddamn her, he hadn't seen his own eyes in so long- why did she have to carry his reflection in herself? He swallowed because he didn't trust himself to speak. _Yeah, lovers can comeback sometimes. And if they don't- well- you learn to work with what's at hand..._ His eyes traveled down to her tan knuckles sliding against his ivory fingers.

"What do you want me to do, Slayer?" He muttered. " You know bloody well I can't fight those guys. You an' I never would've given each other a second look if-"

"I didn't look! There was no looking, no first, or second looking!" Buffy gasped at him.

"I know! It was an expression! What do you want me to do? Spit it out, girl! If I can't fight anything but demons, what good am I in this situation? Where's this purpose you were talkin' about last night?"

Sometimes her best plans came to her in zap flash.

Apparently, so did his.

"You help me get in-" Buffy began.

"I know my ins and out, there've been others who escaped, we've talked, I know a couple ways-" He added.

"I'll knock out the first guard we see." Buffy explained. "I'll get his keys."

"Electronic cards, Pet. White. I'll open the cages, is that what you want?"

"You up for leading a little revolution?" She cocked one brow.

"Demon freedom, Slayer? Are you finally gonna come to the dark side?" His own brow crooked.

"Just let out enough to create a diversion- not more than you and I can handle putting back- or down. But get Oz out. And then I'll get us past the guards, however you tell me to get back out."

Spike nodded. "Good plan. Except for one thing. You're not bullet proof, Slayer."

"You are. You'll get him out."

His eyes widened. "What are you saying?"

She regarded him calmly, still so close together. "If Dru were in there, would you risk it all to get her out?" She whispered hoarsely.

His voice was guttural and harsh. "Of course I bloody would, I love her more than my own unlife!"

"So you get it. Oz is Willow's Dru. And my Angel. I don't want to get all symbolic on you, but-"

"But I understand it. I went to school when they knew how to teach poetry an' figurative language an'- " He trailed off as Buffy stared. "An'- an'- how to hold your own in a brawl an' - other- manly things." He coughed uncomfortably.

"Uh- right. Thank you." Buffy realized that without ever formally saying he would, he'd just agreed to join her on a pretty suicidal sounding mission.

"Welcome." He answered gruffly. The realization hit him as well and he stepped away from her, head thrown back in dismay. "Oh God help me! What've you done to me? I'm gonna get dusted durin' this second truce, I barely survived the first one!"

Buffy took his arm, suddenly recalling Riley's words, his , she'd broken his jaw again, so while he might want revenge, but he wasn't getting it this week. And he wouldn't be telling his little army buddies about it this week, either. He probably wouldn't tell them, ever. He'd want to hurt Spike personally. Besides, he wouldn't want them to know his girlfriend was "sleeping with demons." "I promise I won't let anything happen to you." She said before she could stop herself, even before she could rephrase it, change it- because it sounded mega, mega mushy.

Spike felt well and truly startled, and warning bells went off in his head. Oh bloody hell no. Not the emotions. Nothin' past a slight, tiny little bit of understandin' and likin' each other when mutually convenient. No pledgin' to protect one another.

"I mean- since- you can't fight the humans and right now- oh, this is so screwed up- since the humans are the bad guys here- and you're helping me, of course I'm not going to let you get hurt by the humans. That's what I meant." _Or not. Stupid Buffy. Bad Buffy! You can't want to protect him, he's evil. Yeah, okay- but he's- oh, again with the wiggy-ness, he's_ my_ evil._

_Listen to that heart speed along. Guilty, guilty little Slayer. She doesn't even feel this way before we get down to is. Sayin' she has my back makes her feel worse than when I literally, sinfully, sexually have hers._ "Ah. I see." He said in a voice that clearly let her know he did see. Saw right through her. But he didn't let the guilt linger.

"Well, I guess I'll stop you from gettin' too badly mauled by demons if you do the same for me with the humans. Kind of a- species protection pact."

Well, when I said I wouldn't let 'anything' happen to you- you know I meant, letting you get maimed or killed. Beaten to a healable pulp was not on the cards." She shrugged and tried to make her bluff sound careless.

"Is that so?" He looked at her curiously. "Why?"

"Huh?"

"Why? Why do you care if I'm safe or not?" He pressed.

"I just said that part, if you'd ever listen-"

"Why?" He repeated, more firmly.

Her answer came out hesitant and fumbling, but honest, which was what he seemed to be after. "I need your help with stuff."

"Mhmm." He stared her down, waiting to see if there was anymore. When she stared back just as hard, he felt slightly deflated. Yo_u're her puppet. Well, that's one step up from bein' a lap dog._

_Stupid big, soulful blue eyes. Hey- how come they're soulful without the soul?_ She sighed and confessed, eyes fluttering shut so she wouldn't have to see his triumphant grin, "I thought we were going to be that thing."

Of all the times for her to be vague and more airhead like than usual. Spike closed his own eyes in frustration. "_What_ thing?"

She tried to explain, speaking in a heartfelt rush, keenly aware of the clock ticking by, knowing even though she hadn't been with him for more than ten minutes, it must feel like ten hours to Willow who was waiting for her lost love to be rescued. "That thing! The-the what's left! When you can't love anyone anymore- and the real true love is gone? But there's movies and joking and burgers- and- other stuff. And it's good and it's nice, even if it's so totally not what's supposed to happen." She opened her eyes and found his looking at her, wide and dark. "I thought- we were that."

Spike silently reached back and put on his coat, turning up the collar, because he knew they'd be heading out into the late afternoon sun momentarily. "You forgot to mention the continuously insultin' each other part of the deal." He mumbled, sliding a cigarette from the packet in his jacket pocket.

She barely kept the grin off her face. "Oh, well- that's like- _obvious._ Dumbass."

"You still didn't say it. Airhead."

"You think _I'm_ going to get _you_ killed? _You're_ gonna get _me_ killed, Mr. Can't-Even-See-The-Obvious." Buffy retorted. He snorted out a plume of smoke in her general direction and she scowled.

They walked together towards the crypt door, and seamlessly exited into a patch of shadow, keeping Spike from the direct sunlight.

"If we survive this, you owe me one." He griped.

"I'll owe you two if you can keep your mouth shut for a whole minute." Buffy said with a blend of saccharine and sarcasm.

Spike clamped his mouth shut and jerked his head towards the gardener's shed down by the woods behind the cemetery where he stowed his car. They walked a few paces before curiosity overwhelmed him. "Two what?"

"Well, you won't know now, will you, you big dummy?" She hissed, smacking his elbow.

He growled and subsided into silence, quickening his pace. Beside him, he watched her face close over, a look of blind concentration and worry setting in. What a bitch of a life the girl had. Surprisingly, it didn't make him happy, 'cause it wasn't, oh, what was the word? _Fair._ Lose your own lover, watch your best mate's get kidnapped within a day of the "happily ever after" moment- an' you gotta go risk your life to get him back. That's not even Slayer duty, that's just- shitty.

He broke the silence again, but this time she didn't crow in triumph at his failure. He lightly squeezed her hand as it swung beside his as they walked. "We'll get him back for her." He muttered through the last of his cig.

"I know." She replied, believing it, because it simply wasn't an option not to. She squeezed his hand in return and they walked the last few yards to his car.

She never noticed, somehow, even despite his calming grip, that she'd taken his hand and hadn't let it go.

_To be continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Dedicated to ginar369, McPastey, Micmoc, Vera Snape- Evans, Searching-For-My-Reason, Sirius 120, DLillith21, lil-leti, and starscape91. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VI

As Spike and Buffy headed towards his car, keeping to the shadows, hands still unconsciously clasped, a hulking figure emerged from the overgrown thickets where Riley had been hiding just the other day. In his massive shadow was a smaller figure, a vampire. As the vampire stood cowering in the trees' protective shade, he frowned.

"Wasn't that the Slayer?"

"Yes. Yes, it was." A guttural voice sounded calm and reflective as he watched the figures retreat. "Hmm. That's unexpected."

"Spike is known as the Slayer of Slayers, I swear it!"

"I don't doubt you." The figure turned, revealing a seamed, stapled face, part human, part demon. He inhaled sharply. "They've mated. Heavily, repeatedly. Their scents are all over each other."

"Why would they-"

"They've embraced the master plan. Human and demon unity. But their way will not produce the desired results, they are incapable of producing offspring. My way is the only way." Adam caressed his multicolored skin and smiled unpleasantly. "No matter. He won't help me find her weakness, but he himself may _be_ the weakness."

"Uh... not to disagree, your Unified-ness, but the Slayer wouldn't sacrifice herself for him, even if they are playing some kind of weird game involving sex with your most hated enemy. He tried to kill her. He tried to kill her friends. A _lot_." The scrawny vampire explained the local history hesitantly.

Adam squinted in concentration, mentally rolling through his list of contingencies. "He will not go against her now." That had been his reason for seeking out the vampire, known for his proximity to the Slayer and her friends, to assist in finding the Slayer's weakness, exploiting it, maneuvering her into position.

"He might. Spike can't hurt her, he's chipped. But give him a chance to get her, and he would."

"No. Not any longer." He inhaled again. There was not simple, frantic, animalistic lust in the air. Not mere biological functioning. They had chosen, spent time, consummated a bond over the course of days, judging by the lingering aromas surrounding the crypt.

"Are you sure about that?" The smaller creature backed up, hands held up in supplication. "I'm just asking!"

"Yes, I am sure. He has nothing left but her. There is no other scent on him. He doesn't feed. He doesn't hold court over other demons even though he is charismatic and powerful, with a reputation for violence and killing his own kind as it suits him. He could be feared, and yet he plays both sides of the field as it benefits him. He enjoys the company of a strong and critical foe. He's earned her respect, or her friendship. Possibly her love, if they are capable of that emotion. He could've played a role in creating the master race, but he lacks vision."

"That's Spike for you. Impetuous. And easy to piss off."

"He won't turn against her. Not with full commitment. He is a demon, but he gives in too much to his human side. He must learn to blend them, balance them. As I will do, as I have done." He flexed his hands. "Demon, human, machine, all the best pieces, all flaws removed. Spike has fallen in with the human woman. It weakens him. When the time comes, he won't turn against her."

"Then how will you get the Slayer to play her part, Enlightened One?"

"She will come. If I cannot find her weakness through him, I'll find it in some other way. But she will come in and play her role, eventually."

* * *

><p>Buffy and Spike flew into Giles' flat, rushing through the sunset, Spike in a haze of old blankets and smoking leather. "I couldn't get Riley to play ball." Buffy gasped out to the assembled group, containing Willow, Xander, Anya, and Giles.<p>

"Prick." Anya gave her opinion of the man complacently.

"So Spike's here again?" Xander looked less than pleased.

"I'm more than happy to leave." Spike smirked nastily.

"Shut up!" Willow shouted, and then subsided back into an angst ridden pacing, silent except for hitched breathing as she wrung her hands and wore a seam into the hardwood floors.

"We're all here now, Willow. We'll have Oz back in a matter of hours. I'm sure he's alright." Giles soothed. Spike snorted derisively.

"Yeah. Dependin' on what they want to do to him."

Willow whimpered and paled even further. Buffy elbowed Spike hard in the ribs and went to her best friend. "Tara said they took him right before she found me. It- it hasn't been too long, right? Not more than an hour, even. O-or maybe a little more." She looked between Spike and Buffy. Spike remained silent, not in an attempt to be mean, but because he could read heartbreak and fear on her face, and he didn't want to compound it by saying it might be plenty late.

Anya had no such compunction. In her attempts to be comforting, she tossed out brightly, " So that's good, right? I mean, they probably haven't had time to eviscerate him yet."

Willow fell to the sofa's edge like someone had kicked her legs from under her. Buffy braced her with an arm and Xander hushed his well-meaning girlfriend.

" Ahn, you can help by making this a quiet time."

"Once again we're faced with the fairly daunting prospect of having to

infiltrate the Initiative. And this time, I fear we've rather lost our 'ace in the hole', as it were." Giles remarked grimly.

"So what do we do?" Willow asked in a scared little voice. She really wanted Tara's arms around her, not Buffy's, but Tara wasn't there. She was going to lose them both, and it didn't even matter if she made decisions about friends or lovers. Both of them would be gone if something didn't happen soon, Oz through capture, Tara through guilt or fear.

_Good question. Why did Slayers always have to answer those types of questions, huh?_ She hoped her plan- well- her and Spike's plan, would work. "Well, we need to move fast, and we can't count on Riley. He's not changing his mind, so we're just gonna have to move on this."

"Sounds good." Xander nodded. "We can't wait much longer." He hissed, trying not to let Willow hear him, but knowing that it was inevitable.

" I know." She looked between Willow, Spike, and Giles. " Okay. Xander, I want you with us. Spike and I are gonna go in."

"That wasn't part of the-" Spike protested, and Xander jumped in,

"We've done it before. Helping Riley out, the bastard. You'd think he'd return the favor."

"Yeah, well..." Buffy shrugged angrily. "He doesn't do lots of things he should do. The three of us can handle it." _Maybe._

"I'm going with you." Willow tried to stand, and failed, falling clumsily back to the couch, knees too jellified to hold her up.

"No. Look, it's too dangerous, Will." She knew she'd be the same way. If Angel was inside, no force on earth would hold her back. Willow had to have a purpose in this mission, a hand in saving Oz that would keep her out of the red zone. No point in saving Oz to lose Willow. _Because lovers are supposed to be one whole, two halves that make up one heart. That's why there's only this half-life without them..._

Giles spoke up, cutting off Willow before she could protest. "How do you propose to get in this time? Not to throw logic in the face of a desperate situation, but last time you had a military clearance."

"That's my area of expertise." Spike grinned cockily. "I can get us in. I know the back way."

"And just why are you helping us?" Xander demanded harshly.

" 'Cause it annoys those army ginks. An' I happen to be short on smoke and bloody money." He threw in. Buffy glanced at him just enough to say a silent "Nice touch." with her eyes.

"How much?" Giles asked coldly.

"I'll settle with him later." Buffy interjected quickly. "Willow- Spike knows the back way in, and Xander and I can take care of the humans- but we'd move a lot faster if we had a little- um- help."

"Help? As in magic?" Her eyes lit up momentarily.

"No." Giles insisted immediately.

"Not that kind of mojo, Red. Hear you're powerful stuff with the wrigglin' through cyber space."

"Hacking? How is hacking going to help us get Oz back?" Willow demanded desperately. "I don't think they're going to check his case file within a couple hours and care if it says 'Not a werewolf, please release.' in big red letters."

"Got a map handy, Rupert?" Spike asked, ignoring the witch's pained outburst.

"Yes, a campus one. We've had to use it rather a lot this year." He muttered bitterly. Giles grabbed a paper off of his desk and spread it over the coffee table.

"You want this area... here." Spike scanned the map, gesturing to a hilly area at the edge of the campus.

"What do we want that area for?" Anya asked nervously.

"That's the easiest, least noticed entryway. Not guards. Electric eyes, though. If we could get the surveillance turned off...?" He looked at Willow.

"You want me to shut down the power to this area?" Willow nodded quickly. "Easy. But not surgical. I'd have to take out a whole grid. I could be opening all the demon holding cells, guys."

"Suddenly not liking this idea as much." Xander spoke up.

"They'll have some sort of back up generators, all military institution and hospitals do." Giles pointed out. "Of course, it'll only run the most necessary apparatus- such as holding cell fileds."

"Even if the cages do get opened- that's part of the plan." Buffy looked at Spike. "We take the humans, get the keys, and Spike lets out enough demons to keep the guards busy while we get Oz out."

"But- but freeing demons?" Giles looked at his slayer worriedly.

"You think of any other quick way to induce mass panic an' confusion among the toy soldiers, Rupes?" Spike cocked one eyebrow.

"Stop talking about it and do it." Willow's flat voice cut through the room like a blade.

"Right to the action. A woman after my own heart." Spike grinned maliciously. Damn his eyes, they strayed right to the Slayer. _Oh, an' double damn, she saw it._

"Do we need my commando look-alike outfits? Are you going in as scientist babe again?" Xander filled the small silence that filled the room as Spike and Buffy seemed mildly out of sync after Spike's little quip.

"No." Buffy was firm. "There isn't time, and we're not stealthy- well- not after we get in. This is a smash and grab."

"My favorite sport." Spike rubbed his hands gleefully.

"Willow, how long will it take you to hack into the electric grid?" Giles asked, not liking Buffy's reckless attitude.

"Fifteen minutes, thirty minutes tops." She was already clicking away on the computer.

"Then I insist all of you put on something less obtrusive. You have time." Giles ordered.

"But-" Buffy didn't feel like being cautious. Didn't they understand? This was the happy ending! The happy ending had happened, and someone ripped the book open again and started scribbling another chapter. It didn't matter if she didn't get out, it didn't matter if she got shot with the fancy laser guns, as long as Oz made it out, got back to Willow, and then someone, somewhere, could say, "And they lived happily ever after."

"But you won't be any good to Oz if you get shot on sight." Giles stared her down.

"You cannot get Xander shot. I need him." Anya declared firmly.

"Yeah, and Spike is kind of giving off the whole Hostile 17 look with the big coat and the goth outfit." Xander appraised the man dressed in black from his boots to his collar.

Buffy paused. She'd promised Spike wouldn't get hurt by the humans. Riley's threat rang heavily in her ears suddenly. _"I didn't know you could get turned through bodily fluids besides blood, but it looks like you can. We'll make sure to test that theory- before we kill him."_ Her mind snapped back to the present. Spike didn't deserve to die for helping her. She didn't know exactly what Riley meant about testing the theory- well, she knew what he meant but she didn't want to consider _how_ he might test it. But she sure as hell understood the "before we kill him" part. She and Spike had a pact. They kept promises. "You're right." Buffy told Giles with a nervous dart of her eyes.

"Now listen here, Buffy, I- Oh." Giles ended with an embarrassed cough. "I'm right. Well, erm- Xander- get the clothes you'll need."

"On it. I think I have something for you." He nodded to Spike.

"I look okay." Buffy surveyed her semi- neat causal wear. "I'll just put my hair in a bun. That always gives off the scientific look." She began twisting her hair up as she spoke.

"C'mon. I'll drive us, you pick up the gear, we'll change, an' head to the point." Spike squared his shoulders. In spite of all the delicious melee a smash and grab brawl could bring, he really didn't want to end up eating wood or re-caged. Some slight stealth wouldn't bother him. Not as long as the action arrived eventually.

"What time is it?" Willow asked in a tight voice, still typing, typing as if her life depended on it. Which it kinda did, Buffy thought with a bittersweet smile. _Someone else's life can make or break your own._

Giles relayed the time, and they agreed, half and hour from the minute Willow estimated she would have the grid powered down, and they would descend into the Initiative.

"Buffy- be careful." Willow looked up for a moment, panicked eyes overly bright.

"Count on it." Buffy squeezed her shoulder as she headed out the door. She hugged Giles with one arm as she passed him, and ignored Anya and Xander sharing a tonsil-searching kiss on the front step.

Spike slid into the front seat of his car with an impatient snort. Buffy joined him, shotgun, glaring. "Don't be such a jerk. This is life and death here. They earned a long kiss goodbye." Buffy nodded to the couple on the steps.

"Uh-huh. Well, I think we allowed drivin' time, changin' time, an' trackin' through the woods in the dusk time- but I don't think we figured in spit swappin' time." He groused and beeped the horn.

"Ass!" Buffy smacked his hand down. "We can take two minutes off the driving, I know how you drive. Like it's your personal assignment to terrify every other driver on the road."

"I do what I can." He said modestly, but his scowl still returned.

"What's eating you now?" Buffy sighed, laying her head back on the seat- and yelping. She made a dive over the back and retrieved a pair of torn pink underwear from the floorboards of the back seat.

"Gimme those, I earned 'em." Spike snatched them from her.

"You don't 'earn' my underwear."

"Just what's inside 'em?" He smirked.

"Oh good. The jerkiness is back full throttle. Stop talking about this. It's a secret, remember?" She hissed and glanced worriedly at Xander who was now making his way to the car.

"He can't hear anything over the roar of his hormones. Some kiss goodbye. She would've shagged him right there if he'd let her."

"Don't be a pig!" Buffy warned in an angry whisper.

"Don't be a shrew." He countered.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" She slapped his knee hard. His fingers snatcher hers as they descended on the denim, and held them there, just this side of painfully.

"D'you ever get a little tired of watchin' 'em, Luv? Watchin' them kiss goodbye and hello an' clinging to moments in life like there's somethin' out there that still means a damn?"

Buffy was startled by his sudden vehemence, and his deep thoughts, triggered by something she'd gotten so used to. "Yeah." She admitted to him, to herself. "A little. Sometimes." Angel hadn't kissed her goodbye. One minute he'd been between the ambulance and the fire truck, and the next- gone. She looked at Spike, his gimlet sapphires trained on Xander as he reached the door of the vehicle. "You didn't get to kiss her goodbye, did you?" She whispered.

Spike's hands tightened on the wheel, but he remained moodily silent.

"That's why we're doing this. Because it's awful. When you don't get to say goodbye." Buffy murmured and huddled closer to the door, leaning her head against the interior miserably.

Spike looked at her. "You, too?" She nodded once, and that was all they had time for. But it was just another reason to like the girl. She knew what it was like when they didn't even let you make an effort to heal the wound. It made sense. Dru'd been 'raised' by Angel. Of course she'd have that selfish streak- at her weak moments only, of course. Otherwise his dark swan was perfect, a better black pearl never known to the living or dead.

The boy was sliding into the backseat, commenting vigorously about the stench of a thousand old cigarettes smoked inside and decrying the stains on the backseat. At that, Spike couldn't help but smile briefly. He watched Buffy's cheeks flame. Wordlessly he put the car into gear and roared away, driving like a maniac.

"Hey!" Xander flew across the backseat and cursed loudly. "I'm looking to get beat up for Will's sake- not because you learned to driven in a Model T."

"Shut up. I'm drivin' like this 'cause you an' demon girl spent five minutes neckin' in a crisis."

"Pardon me for making sure I kiss my girlfriend goodbye in the face of my semi-weekly impending doom." He cried defensively.

"It's fine, Xand." Buffy halted the exchange. "You did the right thing. It's worth it to take the time. Isn't it, Spike?" She asked meaningfully.

Spike chewed a mouthful of words before letting them emerge. "Yeah. Right, Slayer." He said without venom or sarcasm.

Xander watched the two of them exchange a look, and saw Buffy's smile dart across her face for just a second. A small, brave grin usually reserved for him and Willow. But this one was more- private. Weird. And weirder still, Spike returned it, and then shrugged. "Some guys have all the luck." He muttered.

"Some guys have all the pain." Buffy returned, and their secretive smiles grew.

"You two are agreeing on stuff. And joking around. Quoting song lyrics." Xander spoke up in a fearful voice. "I know what that means!" He cried.

Spike and Buffy froze, and Buffy held her breath. "What?" She croaked.

"This is much worse than you're telling me and we're all gonna die!"

"No one's dying, Xander." Buffy laughed softly._ But there's stuff that we're not telling you, yeah. Plenty._

"Can I get that in writing , Slayer? About the not dyin'?"

"You're already dead, Spike."

"A man likes a bit of security."

"Shut up and drive."

"Oh, thank God! You're back to normal." Xander sighed in relief as they pulled into his parents' driveway.

* * *

><p>"That's not normal." A field agent bringing in an HST watched the lights flicker and die like a giant switch had been flipped. All around demons roared as their containment units fizzled momentarily, until the back up generators restored critical power to the containment units. Those, and the surgical areas would have power even in the event of a power outage. Everything else was in blackness. His HST, an unidentified humanoid demon with horns and spiked hands struggled against him. "Stop that or you're dead!" The agent threatened.<p>

"Hey, mate? Need a little help?" A pale operative, British by the sound of it- that was unusual- approached him as he struggled.

"Oh yeah, thanks!" He accepted gratefully.

A small blonde woman appeared behind him and suddenly he found himself knocked flat, his ears ringing and the room spinning as the darkness became total. "He wasn't talking to you." He heard a sweet, feminine voice with a steel edge say. Then he lapsed into oblivion.

"I got this, Slayer." Spike leaned over the body and retrieved the key card, grabbing the other demon by the scruff of the neck. Getting in had been fairly simple- until this hallway, the first crossway between tunnel and Initiative proper. "You take down the next guard and get Red's mongrel."

"And what are you doing again?" Xander demanded, last to arrive, taking the weapon from the body and stepping over it.

"Me an' my new pal are gonna go play Moses, set the captives free." Spike twirled the plastic square on his slender finger. The demon had other ideas, shaking itself loose as it fled with a howl of terror, running back the way they had come. "Oh well. If I remember rightly, Moses was a solo act anyway." Spike shrugged and continued speaking, "If I find the boy first-"

"Get out and get him someplace safe." Buffy ordered in an unshakable tone. "Xander, come on. We're gonna get the next guard and get his key, too. Whoever finds Oz first, get out."

"You want me to take point, since I look the part?" Xander asked, holding the rifle steady and looking every inch a soldier when he wanted to.

"Yeah. Go on, I'm just going to help move this guy someplace where he won't give Spike trouble when he wakes up."

"Alright." Xander looked at her doubtfully. "I'm not walking further than the next hall without you, okay?"

"Understood, Sgt. Harris." Buffy saluted with muted playfulness.

He walked ahead, and Spike took the agent easily over his shoulder. "I'll just pop him in the first cell I come to. Catch up to Harris." He said.

"The first _empty_ cell. No feeding the demons, okay?" She warned.

"Spoil everything, don't you?" Spike muttered, but he didn't mind much. Being stuck in a cell and getting zapped every time you so much as leaned wrong was enough punishment- for now. "I got it, Slayer." He said more insistently as she remained with him. "Look, I swear, I'm not gonna put him somewhere where he'll be din-dins, okay?" He huffed irritably. You'd think the girl'd trust him with that small task, considering she trusted him with her little rescue mission, and considering he might get zapped even if he indirectly hurt the human.

"Not that." Buffy shook her head. "What you said- or didn't say- in the car...?" She trailed off.

"Oh. Yeah." He shrugged uncomfortably. "What about it?"

She paused and then leaned forward in a rush, kissing him hard and fast, knowing Xander could turn back and look at any second, but knowing it was too important, knowing it was stupid to try and make up for lost time and lost chances she'd never get- but needing to do it anyway. She pulled back, mouth wet and gasping softly. "For goodbye. You know, in case. Not that- well, because we won't, but it's the idea... I mean, obviously it's supposed to be someone else, but since we're here, and we're doing that thing where we're whatever's left-"

Spike leaned down, dropping the agent and pulling her close to him, kissing her properly, like he should've kissed Dru, like he would kiss her, if he ever got the chance again. Like you never know when it's goodbye for good, so make every time like the last time, make it all count. "I got it." He stepped back from her.

"Yeah." Boy, did he get it. Her legs went weak for a second, before they resumed battle ready steadiness. "Okay. Good."

"Bye for now, Slayer." He shooed her off.

"If you get killed, you're totally violating our agreement." She warned, starting to turn.

"I'll keep it in mind." He rolled his eyes.

"You do that." She trotted off, catching up to Harris.

* * *

><p>"I wouldn't do that if I were you." Spike told one of his newly released vampires as it seized a nearby soldier. "Hell of a headache."<p>

The vampire lunged anyway, and recoiled with a shout and clutched its head.

"I told you so." Spike said complacently, and unlocked another two cages. "Anyone here not had their noggins cracked open?" A few of the demons in his circle of recent releases raised their appendages. "Okay- go to work, mates." He gestured to the corridor that was rapidly filling with operatives and creatures in a screaming mass of men trying to recapture and demons attempting to escape. Spike slid through, walking backwards, taking swings at demons, no different from any of the other humans on the floor. In the confusion, he passed as both soldier and monster, depending on who looked at him. He slipped into the shadows and watched, waiting to see if he needed to open more cages to keep up the distraction. Probably would- most demons tried to escape knowing they couldn't fight back and the numbers between human and demon were going to seesaw in the soldiers' favor soon. "Dammit. She'd better work fast..."

* * *

><p>"If we don't find him fast, they're going to realize we're the only ones not running down to the all-you-can-fight buffet Spike is throwing." Xander hissed worriedly as yet another group of operatives rushed past them.<p>

Buffy felt a wave of worry sweep over her, and surprisingly, it was for both Oz and Spike. He couldn't fight the humans, and he was going to get caught eventually. "I know. The entire force must be down there. Which is great for us- no stoppage. Urggh! He's got to be close by, we've walked past enough cages..." Buffy quickened her pace.

* * *

><p>"Oi, mate." Spike released another demon from its cell and blocked it before it could join the fray, a fray which was rapidly falling to the humans since so many of their attackers were unable to fight them. "Where do they keep the new arrivals, got any idea?"<p>

The demon spoke in a strange growling language. Spike sighed. Murithian. He didn't speak that. "Could you just point if you know?" He asked. The Murite demon pointed left and then turned its body and gestured as if turning a corner. "Ta' mate. Give 'em hell!" And he scarpered.

Spike barely escaped detection as he ran down the hallway indicated by the Murite. "Soldier, we have a code red!" An older man, probably one of those in charge, confronted Spike.

"Ur-" Spike shoved his American accent to the front. "Ur- out of ammo." He said, hoping that was acceptable.

It apparently wasn't. "What the hell kind of weapon are you using that requires ammo instead of cell recharging?" The officer demanded.

"That's what I meant. No weapon." Spike held up his empty hands.

"Why didn't you put it like that? Get some tranqs while you're in the armory." The officer rushed past him without another glance.

"Yes, Sir." Spike ran, doubled back, and turned the corner he'd originally been after, finding it lead down a hallway that opened up to the operating area. Immediately his stomach made a violent protest, and even though he couldn't get sick, he felt ill.

Judging by the creatures quivering, pacing, or curled into balls in the shorter rows of cells, he wasn't the only one. But one cell was different. It had a human inside. Not human looking, really human. A naked, battered, bruised boy, but still alive and not cut open. "Hey!" Spike raced to the cell he wanted.

Oz looked up and blinked. "Spike?"

"Hang on, we're getting you out, back home to Red." Spike hissed, and slid the card.

"Why are you helping me?" Oz asked suspiciously, not moving from his tight ball of pain in the corner.

"It's a long story." Spike grumbled, nervously waiting by the door. He wasn't going into those cages ever again, not unless wolfie really couldn't walk.

Oz lifted his head higher and inhaled. "You- you smell like Buffy. She's all over you." He said weakly.

"Yeah, well that's the short version of the long story. An' it's not what you think, it's just- a thing- and no one needs to mention it." Spike ceased his warning and peered anxiously up and down the hall. "Look, do you want out of here before or after they split you open?"

Oz decided to trust his former enemy- at least he probably couldn't meet a worse fate than the one he was currently expecting- and moved feebly out of his huddled position. With a pained grunt he used a burst of strength to get to his feet, almost collapsing, grabbing the wall for support.

"Did you find him?" Xander's voice and Buffy's running footsteps reached Spike's ears.

"Down here!" Spike hissed and urged them to hurry. "He's in rough shape but all the pieces are still attached."

"Oz, man!" Xander rushed past Spike into the cell and grabbed his beaten friend. "It's okay. It's okay, we're gonna get you out." Oz, with his typical lack of speech, just nodded and gave him a weak smile.

Buffy averted her eyes for the dignity of her stoic friend. "We have some of Spike's clothes in the car." She said to the floor.

"Screw that." Spike tugged her hand towards the corridor's other end, where soldiers were rushing past. "Get one of them!"

"What?"

"Just grab one, knock him out, an' we'll take his clothes. Let's move it, Slayer." Spike pushed her ahead.

Buffy nodded, ran to the end of the hall, and waited for a single agent to come along, not one in a pack. In the meantime, Xander had taken off his olive drab shirt and slid it over Oz's head. Being much taller than the captured man, it hung low enough to give him some abbreviated modesty.

"Excuse me." Buffy grabbed a man as he rushed past, not an operative, but a lab tech, wheeling a cart full of syringes and restrains towards the battle zone.

"Yes- hey, do you work-" The tech never finished the inquiry, falling backwards as his head exploded in a wreath of blackness from a killer right hook.

"Work here? No, sorry." She apologized to the unconscious figure. "Spike!" Buffy hissed. Between the two of them, they stripped the technician to his underwear and socks, Buffy taking his lab coat to make her own outfit more believable.

As Xander dressed Oz and Spike slid the tech into the holding cell in Oz's place, Buffy had an uncomfortable thought. "How are we going to get past the Soldiers vs. Monsters show?" She realized the battle hadn't shifted, but remained in the halls right before the passage they'd used to come in.

"We go through in the confusion?" Xander asked worriedly.

"I'd like to have a better plan than that." Buffy raked her hair and slid her shoulder under Oz's other one with an encouraging smile. "Don't worry. We're getting out of here. The 'how' is just a little sketchy."

At the moment, the entire Initiative went pitch black. Even the back up generators couldn't keep up with the strain, and only the containment cells held. The operating theater, all the hallways, everything- went dark. Even the lights inside the cells went out, but the electronic fields coating the glass remained weakly in place.

"The how just got way less sketchy, huh, Buff?" Xander grinned in the darkness.

"God bless Willow." Buffy agreed. "She probably figured out the problem before I did. She's like that, always one step ahead in the logical planning department."

"Yes, bully for her, but we're all still standin' here." Spike hissed angrily. "How the bloody hell have you lot lived this long?"

"Shut up, Captain Peroxide." Xander hissed back, easing Oz against the wall for a moment to let the boy rest..

"Spike- night vision time?" Buffy could see in the night, but this was pitch black, and she was glad to be with someone who had his own built in flashlights.

Spike vamped and in the dark, his amber eyes glowed. "Follow me." He grinned, and headed towards another escape route he knew of.

Buffy continued to speak as they stealthily slid down the hall. "You three get out, I'm going to make sure the demons we let loose get contained again."

"Don't worry about 'em, Slayer. I didn't let many go that weren't already chipped up. They've either legged it or been subdued already." Spike waved her idea away.

"I have to check." She insisted. Turning from him, she looked to her wounded friend. "Oz, how are you doing?"

"I've been better." He replied simply.

"It's a wolf moon. You're going to heal fast." Buffy assured him.

"Uh- speaking of that- am I gonna get hamburger-ized by your more hairy, less articulate side?" Xander asked his friend.

"No. I can control it. Mostly. Like now. Now, I don't think I could turn if you paid me." Oz winced as he walked, feeling too sore to move more than a few inches at a time.

"You'll be fine. They didn't get their scalpels on you, right?" Spike motioned them down a hall.

"Just other painful things." Oz agreed.

"Here." Spike held up a hand in front of a dark opening in the wall. "If I'm right, this is gonna connect to that back way we came in."

"And if you're wrong?" Buffy asked.

"We're walking into a dead end." Spike shrugged nonchalantly.

"Oh boy, remind me to take Spike on the next big, scary mission where we could all die." Xander muttered sarcastically.

"No. We're gonna go through the sure way. It's closest to the car. I don't want to get out there and end up on the other side of the woods. We need a fast get away." Buffy pushed herself gently away from Oz. "Spike- you knock down any demons, I'm taking down any humans. Xander- you take Oz straight out, don't look back."

"Hey-"

"No, it'll be fine. Spike and I are clearing a path. You take it." She commanded in her most "I'm the Slayer, you don't want to argue with me" tone.

"But I'm flying blind here." Xander protested, not so much because he cared about that, but because he didn't like leaving Buffy to face danger.

"Follow your nose. Well-_ wolf boy's_ nose." Spike nodded to Oz. "You can smell the outside air, right?"

"If I get close enough." Oz agreed.

"This damn maze leads to a big, open shaft and then up to the woods." Spike explained. "Just keep leading him to fresh air until we catch up and I resume my job as tour guide."

"I can do that." Oz nodded.

"Here we go then." Buffy crouched and saw Spike tucking himself into a similar position. "Ready? One, two-"

Spike roared and ran, bloodlust and pent up violent urges bubbling over.

"You suck at following directions!" Buffy cried, and went out after him, fists and feet flying at anything that moved, one goal in mind- mow them down- make a path for her friends to get out.

"You said ready- I was! Don't need to be counted in." Spike lunged and tore and threw, leaving a trail of stunned demons who sensed it would be better to stay down than face this maniac again. Especially not a madman who was challenging the room at large, "C'mon you bastards, get back up, I haven't torn the head offa anything in a week or more!"

"Less talky, more punchy!" Buffy put guards and soldiers down with single swift punches or kicks, apologizing as she went. "Sorry! Oh, that'll need some ice! I'm sorry! Not my fault! Really sorry!" In the darkness, between his roars and his threats, Buffy heard the vampire laughing at her. Laughing softly, a little ripple of a chuckle and a mutter of "Slayer, Slayer, Slayer..." In spite of everything, it made a ghost of a grin touch her lips.

Oz forced himself to move quickly, trying to walk more than lean, following in the wake of bodies, letting Xander help him over the litter of men and demons on the floor. "Go straight." He whispered.

"For how far?"

"Follow the screams, dude." Oz stated the obvious.

"Almost there." Buffy hollered back.

"Never say that!" Xander shouted forward. "Now some big monster is going to pop out and rip us apart!"

But fate was kind- and Adam was busy- so nothing happened except one last offense on a scattering of soldiers and a lone demon.

"Here! Here, straight ahead." Oz ordered Xander, and Buffy and Spike dispatched their foes quickly and caught up. Spike stepped to the fore and lead them through a tunnel and a narrow shoot, and then they were faced with the glorious sight of a ladder and a cool breeze that meant the outside world was waiting.

"Move before the sleeping beauties wake up!" Spike shoved Xander and Oz ahead of him, earning him two very puzzled stares and one grateful one.

"Thanks." Buffy whispered as the boys cleared the ladder.

"No soddin' point in this stupid noble game you made me play if he dies on the finish line." Spike mounted the ladder ahead of her.

Buffy poked at his ankle as she followed him. "Hello, ladies first?"

"Nope. Been good enough for the day." He snarked and skittered up the ladder, her on his heels.

Xander and Oz were already in the car, Xander squished in the far corner of the backseat, Oz stretching his small frame across the rest. "You're gonna wanna put some ice on- well- every single part of you."

"I'm good." Oz smiled wanly. Buffy and Spike slid into the front seat, and Spike was roaring off before the doors were even shut. "So- thanks."

"Anytime." Buffy reached over the seat and took his hand.

"No! This is it. You get caught again an' you're on your own, Teen Wolf." Spike spat. "Bloody hate that hellhole."

"I can say I'm not loving it either." Oz looked at the vampire. "You know that song, _Sympathy for the Devil_?"

"No?" Buffy shrugged, smiling. Trust Oz, beaten and tortured, to start back on music talk.

"Bloody good song." Spike spoke up. Xander nodded noncommittally.

"Being in there for even a couple hours gave me a brand new perspective." He reached out, sitting up painfully, and managed to look Spike in the eye by leaning on the diagonal. "You're okay, man."

" 'M not!" Spike denied, "Jus' hate those army wankers."

"Not feeling the love myself right now." Xander helped Oz recline again.

"It's alright now, it's over. Everything is going to be fine. We'll get you patched up and Willow's waiting for you at Giles."

Oz looked glad, then reflective. "Good." was all he would say, and then he closed his eyes. "I'm kinda wrecked. I'm gonna sleep for a minute, okay?"

Everyone agreed, and rode the rest of the way home in silence.

* * *

><p>"Silence. Impressive." Adam had lost visual contact when the monitors went down with the loss of electricity. But from his lair, he was still able to hear open walkie-talkie channels. For ten minutes, there had been silence- of a kind. No talking, no relays, no communication. Moaning, wheezing, other people shouting in the distance. No one in an entire wing was speaking, not man, nor demon. "We've found it."<p>

"Found what, most tolerant one?" Adam's vampire lackey spoke up.

"The Slayer and Spike. They'll provide the body count together."

"But- but-"

"You see, she protects him from the humans, and he protects her from the demons. All we have to do is make sure the number of demons stays high enough. When we launch the final assault, the Slayer will come to assist the humans, who will fall to the demons anyway. The question was, how will we get enough of each to create the perfect blend? Spike and the Slayer are the answer. I hadn't realized he'd be so- _vigorous i_n assisting her."

"Uh- boss, not to question you, but-"

"Then don't. Shh. I want to see how long a human stays down once a slayer puts him there."

* * *

><p>"Put him here, easy! Gently!" Giles helped Xander stretch Oz onto the couch. Willow let out a sob and a thankful prayer all at once and fell to her knees, arms around his neck.<p>

"We- uh- we'll leave you to it." Giles smiled happily, almost shyly, and turned away.

"We made you something, moonflower and night blooming jasmine with wolfsbane frond." Anya held out a steaming cup.

"Thanks." Oz looked at it warily before trying to sip it.

"No no! Rub it over your pulse points!" Willow took the cup from him and dabbed her finger into the mixture gently. "It works for night dwelling creatures- and um- the wolf side-"

"I get it. And then I need some clothes. That fit." Oz directed this comment to Willow.

"Right. Your bag. In the uh- my- right, I have them." Willow stammered, recalling Oz's duffle was still in her dorm room.

"You two've been through so much today. We can-" Buffy pointed towards the door.

"No, no!" Willow protested. "Thank you. Buffy, Xander- Spike," she tripped over the last word, "thanks."

"You're pretty handy with the hackin', Red." Spike wasn't used to being thanked, and even though his ego purred, he couldn't accept the praise, it would mean he'd been good. He hadn't been good, he'd simply been paying tribute. Reuniting lovers for the sake of those who'd lost the chance. As love's bitch, it was the least he could do. Or so he told himself.

"Yeah- um- hacking skills aside, I think I might've shut off entire campus." Willow blushed. "But I started thinking- after the first distraction to get int, how would you get out?"

"It was perfect." Xander praised, his arms around Anya, cheek to her hair.

"As usual, everyone contributed." Giles sighed. He held out a cup to Oz. "This you can drink. Tea. Steadies the nerves."

"Like Oz needs that." Xander teased. "Cool as a cucumber."

Spike and Oz exchanged a look. "More like not." Oz took the tea and let Willow continue to massage the balm into his throat, wrists and temples.

"At least it's over now." Buffy sighed. _The happy ending, the happily ever after part is going to start soon..._

"We'll stay and give you a lift to the dorms." Xander chimed in, speaking to the red haired couple.

"I'm good to go." Oz drained the tea and stood up, shaking slightly, but otherwise looking better.

"Get some moonlight on your skin." Anya advised. "Unless that brings out the beast?"

Oz cast a long steady look at Willow. "No. The moon doesn't control me anymore. That's not what brings out the wolf."

"I must say, Oz, it's remarkable how you managed to master that side of yourself. I'm very proud of you." Giles reached for his shoulder tentatively. He touched it lightly, hoping he hadn't landed on any bruises, hoping that the boy wouldn't have any lasting damage from this event. Aside from the mental scars...

"I'll need to get some more charms and do a few rituals. But I'm okay for this phase." He waved once to Buffy, Spike, and Giles. "Thanks."

Xander, Anya, Willow, and Oz left the flat and headed to Xander's car. "Buffy, want a lift?"

"I don't want to squish the patient." Buffy covered neatly. "I'll walk. See you at the dorms soon. I mean- just to grab some stuff. Then I'm gone." Buffy assured.

"Buffy-" Willow said uncomfortably. But the blonde shut the door behind them and Willow's words fell into the night air, only Oz catching the hesitancy in her voice.

* * *

><p>"Why are you still here?" Giles glared at Spike with less malice than usual.<p>

Spike paused. Good question. He supposed it was 'cause he could use a bit of a chaser to the blood and violence, something warm and soft -that'd still make pleasure feel like a fight for survival. Something to exhaust him to the point where he didn't replay the vision of Willow throwing her arms around the boy with her pretty little tear stained cheeks and her quivery little lips. Dru'd never welcomed him home like that. Of course not. He was never the one to leave. "I- uh- was just lettin' them get out of the way first."

"Oh, don't pretend Spike." Buffy's tone was strident. "He just wants me to settle up, blood and smoke money. Well- I don't think so, mister." She tried to sound severe, tossing her hair. "For all I know, you're buying your stinky whiskey with it and then you're going to come bugging me to go to the butcher for you. We're going now, I'm buying, and that's the last I hear about it. Goodnight Giles, catch up with you tomorrow."

"You prissy little bitch, think you're so much better than everyone else." Spike snarled out, following on her heels, ignoring the Watcher. "Like I'd come bugging you for anything."

"You always bug me, Spike. You're a freaking mosquito."

"Ha ha, blood suckers, I get it. An' you're a fuckin' wasp, Slayer. Stinger in your tongue."

Giles watched the two of them leave, sniping away, a puzzled look on his face. That all seemed just a little - odd. But he couldn't place his finger on why.

* * *

><p>"You're a good actress." Spike scrambled into the car after her, wishing they were in the backseat, not the front.<p>

Buffy kissed him, talking through the lip scraping embrace. "Not acting. You _are_ a jerk. A mosquito. Annoying and -ohhh God- you bite..."

Spike pulled back with a smile, his love bite leaving a dark red welt on her fair neck, where her jaw met her throat. "You like it." He whispered darkly.

"You're the one with a stinger." She felt the bulge in his olive drab khakis, his own clothes were stuffed into the front seat on the floor, coat folded carefully on top.

"Show me what you can do with that tongue then, wasp." He leaned into her shoulders, taking her mouth hard, biting the soft curve of her cheek and her chin.

"Not here. Giles' is like- right there." She pushed him away with the little part of her mind left unclouded by adrenaline, hormones, and trying to pretend everything was fine and dandy. "Let's go get your blood. I think you earned it."

"Could have it right out of the bottle, if you'd loosen up a bit." He mumbled, moving in to kiss her throbbing jugular again. He caught a swift downward thrust with the heel of her hand into his straining center seam. "Gahhh." He let out a pained, strangled sound. "Joking. Joking!" He hissed, glaring at her.

"Huh. Not funny." Buffy settled back, perfectly straight faced. "But if you're good, I'll kiss it and make it better."

"I'm not good. But you'll kiss it anyway." He smirked confidently, pulling away with a screech of tires.

For a moment they drove in a tense, sexually pent silence. "It's not 'cause you're good or bad, you know." Buffy finally whispered.

"Yeah, got that around about the first time you an' I toppled into the backseat." He ginned.

"It's 'cause you don't make me pretend."

"Like I could."

More silence. Another break. "I'm happy for them."

"An' sad for us?"

"So totally." Buffy put her head in her palm. "Am I a bad person?"

"No more than me."

"Oh, _that's_ comforting." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

"It doesn't make either of us bad. Or good. It makes us in love." Spike explained to the self-torturing blonde.

The silence this time was short, split second in fact, and horrified.

"With Dru! An' the Poof!"

"Not you!"

"No kiddin'!"

"I mean- aside from all the help, and the nice-ish stuff you do lately, and the fantastic sex- I can't stand the sight of you. Okay- the 'sight' part's kinda growing on me." Buffy blushed, looking at his handsome profile.

"You don't need excuses, alright, Slayer? I'm the best option, sick as that is, right now. An', even sicker- you're mine."

"Could my life suck anymore?" Buffy asked rhetorically.

"Not unless you're me." Spike countered. She elbowed him. He elbowed back, gently enough not to get zapped. "Join me in my drowned sorrows, Slayer?"

"If you would just buy a diet coke at the minimart when you get your cancer in a box, I'll drown you under the table." She sighed.

"Thought you had to go to the dorms. Don't think we have time to drown 'em that much."

"Yeah, about that-" She rolled her head lazily to look at him. "What are you doing tonight?"

He rolled his head to hers, more ferociously than lazily, "You. Multiple times, I imagine."

"Mind if I crash with you? Not up for watching the passionate lovers' reunion."

"Are you asking to spend the night?" Spike could've crashed the car in surprise. Yeah, sure, they had done, but to hear her say it casually, as they drove to the minimart, was just- incomprehensible. Oh, the event itself was fine, better than fine, a plan he quite liked, actually. But not at all expected just now.

"NO!" Buffy yelped. Only, yes, she was.

"Okay. 'Cause- you could. If you'd like." She eyed him apprehensively. "What? not like I'm gettin' all possessive an' boyfriendly on you. No hearts an' flowers. Jus' figured if we're gonna get wasted- well- as wasted as you'd get on your little artificial sugar high, an' then go at it until the pain isn't so obvious- might as well plan on usin' the whole night."

"Is this that 'anticipate your lovers moves or needs' thingy? Or the 'give your lover what they need without making them ask for it' idea?"

"Not your lover." He replied.

"Aside from that, jerk boy." She resisted the urge to punch him again.

"Sure."

"Which one?"

"Does it matter?" Spike resisted the urge to slap her annoying little mouth. _Why with the questions all the damn time?_

"Not really. I guess I'm just trying to learn something. So I don't screw up so bad if I ever do this again." She murmured softly. "Not that I will. Or ever could."

Spike closed his eyes for a moment, dangerous considering the state of his painted over windscreen and the night. "It's both, Luv. Both things. An' here's something else for you to 'learn'. Which one of us?"

"Can we not be cryptic? Buffy brain sprain."

"Who's anticipatin' who? Who's giving what they need to their lover- for lack of a better word? Is it me, or is it you?" He looked over, dark blue eyes boring into her.

Buffy paused and thought. She needed a place to get away from the happily ever that she orchestrated but couldn't have, and something to ease the pain. He needed the pain relief just as much, and he probably didn't want to be alone for it- because alone was a big part of the pain. Alone meant more than just being by yourself, it meant_ they_ weren't around anymore. Suddenly- not so cryptic.

"Ah. I get it. It's both." She felt pleased with herself.

"Well, well. The sprained brain comes through." He looked rather pleased as well.

"In that case, after you get your stuff _and_ my soda- we'll pick up some stuff from the dorms, so I don't have to risk walking in on those two in the morning. I mean- I imagine he'll be- uh- better, in a little while. But not immediately, right?"

"He'll seize the moment, Slayer, if that's what you mean, although yeah, he might need a little rest after bein' tortured. But then- up an' at 'em. Ah, young love." Spike snorted caustically. Both of them knew it was just a cover up. No one wanted to think about old love, or even any love, just then.

* * *

><p>"You know that- that I care so much about you, right?" Willow supported Oz through the blacked out halls of her dorm.<p>

"Mutual, Will."

The tension would kill her, strangle her dead. "Tara didn't tell me- what- what upset you enough to make you change. But I can figure it out."

"We shouldn't talk about this." Oz warned.

"Please." Willow whispered.

Oz sighed. "I shouldn't have come back now... I just thought I'd changed." Willow unlocked her dorm room and they staggered inside the pitch black room. "I should have known- I wouldn't be the only one."

Willow opened the blinds to let the moonlight flood in, setting them both in a dim blue wash of light. "It isn't like that, Oz. I- I didn't stop loving you, I just couldn't keep going without the other half of it. You know? The 'you' part of 'you and me'." She sat on her knees in front of him as he took a seat on the edge of her bed. "I'm sorry." She touched his knee.

"I know. I guess I hoped..." He shrugged and risked a look at her, something he'd found increasingly difficult to do since being alone with her. "I wanted to be different this time. I guess I'm not different enough."

"No. No being different. I didn't love you while wanting you to be something you weren't. And- and you didn't get that. That's okay though, now, 'cause sometimes you have to be what _you_ need to be, do the whole 'finding yourself' thing. I get that. "

Oz smiled at her slightly. "You haven't changed that much. Still the smart cookie, Will."

"You _have_ changed, like you wanted." She smiled back. "You stopped the wolf from coming out. I saw it. I'm so proud of you."

"But I didn't _keep_ it in. When I saw that girl, Tara, this afternoon-" He looked at her. "Why didn't you tell me last night?"

"I didn't know, last night." Willow whispered. "No one knows. I'm not- I'm not 'out'. I don't even think I'm, y'know- 'gay'. I'm just- I- it's _her._" She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "I haven't told anyone. Not even Tara. I wanted you to come home so badly- and it hurt so much... when she made the pain stop..." She looked up at him with a mute plea for understanding, tears beginning to cascade.

"Shh. Shh, baby." Oz pulled her up by the elbows and wrapped her to his narrow chest."Don't cry. Not over me. I bet you cried enough over me."

"It was a lot." She laughed wetly. "You came home- a-and I should be rewarding you for this awesome change and instead-"

"No. Because I haven't changed enough. I can barely look at you. Smell you. Holding you..." He let her go with a soft kiss on her furrowed brow. "I mean, it turns out...

the one thing that brings it out in me is you... which falls under the heading of ironic in my book."

" It was my fault. I upset you. I wasn't honest."

"You were confused. And yeah- not so honest." He managed to look at her again. "Like that's never happened before." He tried to tease her, but it came more melancholy, earning them both the merest of grins. "But- you're happy?"

Her soft smile broadened, counteracting her red rimmed eyes. "I am. I can't explain it-"

" It may be safer for both of us if you don't." He halted her, and her countenance saddened again. "I'm sorry. I'm not there yet, Will."

"I don't know if I really am, either." She took his hand. "I missed you, Oz. I wrote you so many letters... but I didn't have any place to send them, you know?" She swallowed yet another lump in her throat. " I couldn't live like that."

Oz winced and looked away, bitterness at himself apparent on his face, in every line of his body. " It was stupid to think that you'd just be... waiting."

" I _was_ waiting. I feel like some part of me will always be waiting for you. Like if I'm old and blue-haired, and I turn the corner in Istanbul and there you are, I won't be surprised. Because... you're with me, you know?" She rubbed her heart, where Oz was always firmly entrenched, her first, her reality, her fantasy- but probably not her future.

"I know." He touched his own chest, where Willow would always sit, locked in some piece of his heart. "But now is not that time, I guess."

She could barely shake her head, it hurt so much. "No." They stared at each other, a moment trapped in time, when they knew everything about old loves and new lives, and the folly of time and timing. Finally, she whispered, "What are you gonna do?"

" I think I better take off." He murmured.

_No. No, stay. Stay and be Oz, just be around, that smile and that little laugh I hear when I walk in the door, or that profile I still look for when I walk in the Bronze... But- no. I can't have both. I didn't choose both._ "When?" She asked in a hoarse whimper.

" Pretty much now." He touched her cheek with his fingertips.

She nodded, and when her head bobbed, it sent all the tears precariously held in her eyes coursing down her cheeks. She didn't apologize, and neither did he. They just hugged, one more time, saying goodbye in silence.

_To be continued..._

* * *

><p><em>Author's note to my reviewers- If it seems I haven't been writing a response to your reviews, it is because when I attempt to do so, it tells me you have private messaging disabled. I always like to thank my readers for their feedback, so if you do have the PM option turned off- just know I get your reviews, I cherish them, and I appreciate the time you take to write them.<em>

_Sincerely,_

_Sweet_


	7. Chapter 7

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are.

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Okay, first ever attempt at writing a Willow and Tara scene that's even hinting at explicit. If that offends you, you can skim it- it's not too in depth. Unlike the Spike and Buffy scene. Okay, I have done my author-ly duty and warned you, back to the story._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Starscape91 lil-leti, Iambean, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VII

"Don't you wanna warm that up?" Buffy wrinkled her nose as Spike bit thirstily into a plastic bag of blood.

"Nnn." Spike made a noise through his hungry swallowing.

"That's a no, I guess." Buffy looked disgusted.

"All those army gits- you were leavin' a trail of split lips and scratches, Slayer. Blood, blood everywhere an' not a drop to drink." He drained the bag and reached into the brown paper sack that sat between them on the front seat of his car. "Here. You had to work up a thirst with all that fightin'. Worked up some other appetites, too." He held her diet soda out to her, letting his hand linger on her skin as she took it, licking his lips as he watched her grab it.

"Yeah, well- I have some hardboiled eggs in the mini fridge. I'll grab a handful when I grab my clothes and stuff." She unscrewed the cap and drank.

"I meant _other_ appetites, Slayer. The nose knows." He brushed her thigh.

"That wasn't from the fight- well- not all of it. _You know why_." Buffy looked at him meaningfully.

Yes, he did know why. Because they were aching for the other halves of themselves, the halves missing and lost. That made them dive straight into the bloody pathetic and miserable mindset- and the only cure for that was hardcore distraction. In their case, they'd decided to take that literally. "Yeah, I know." He reached into the bag and dug out a fresh packet of smokes.

"Do you think we've given them enough time? " Buffy asked quietly. Neither one of them wanted to discuss what was going on in that dorm room, but they knew why timing was all important. If they went too early, Oz and Willow would be doing the mushy, romantic, beautiful reunion part while Oz rested from his imprisonment. If they left it too late- romantic, beautiful, passionate reunions of the groin-y kind. Neither appealed to someone who would have a hard, good, no-heart, body-only sexual encounter at worst, or a heart-wrenching, deeply introspective, passionate "lovemaking" session that had no actual love in it at best.

"Depends on how bad they messed him up, Slayer." Spike blew a cloud of smoke out the corner of his hard set, sensuous mouth. "But we've got the blood from the butcher, an' smokes an' soda from the mini mart. Unless you wanna hit the liquor store it's time to go someplace else, my crypt or stoppin' off at your place."

"Drive." Buffy sighed.

"Where?" He asked, just to perturb her. "Buyin' me a nice bottle of somethin' top shelf?"

"As if. No. Go to my dorm. Just wait in the car, okay? I'll be in and out with Slayer-iffic speed."

"Want me to walk you in?" Spike asked as he began too drive again.

"I just covered that." Buffy rolled her eyes. "Zapped one too many times, huh?"

"I thought you might like some support. And I'd get zapped a lot less if you didn't act so damn hittable, Bitch." He flexed his grip on the wheel.

"You want a broken nose, Spike? 'Cause you're the one acting 'hittable', Fangface."

"No, I'll pass. 'Cause I don't want to look like your ex-bastard. The most _current_ ex-bastard." Spike snarled.

In a bad tempered silence they rode through the darkened area surrounding the campus- the street lamps black in the wake of the power outage. Simultaneously they both let out a heated huff.

"Thank you." Cried Buffy.

"I didn't mean to throw that in your face."

"What?" They asked in puzzled unison.

"Thank you. For offering the moral support. I think I'll be okay. But if I don't come out for awhile, you can come in and see if I'm crying my eyes out- most likely in front of the snack machines, with a Snickers bar in each hand."

Spike snorted with laughter and nodded. "Chocolate's your drug of choice?"

"Oh, yeah, Baby." Buffy chuckled back sarcastically. "Not illegal at my age, and just as addictive as your stinky whisky."

"It's not 'stinky', it's 'potent'." Spike argued petulantly.

"Skip it, Spike. What were you saying?"

"When?"

"Now. What'd you say sorry for?"

"For bringin' up what's his face."

Buffy chewed the inside of her cheek. "You wouldn't have looked like him anyway. You'd heal by the next morning. You're in the super club. Like me. Riley didn't like feeling left out." She sighed sadly.

"Nothin' wrong with a man likin' to feel strong, likin' to look after his woman." Spike smiled, more to himself than her, remembering looking after his Dru. Buffy began to frown, but he pushed on, "But he oughta appreciate it when his woman's got the strength an' power... Dru- now, you saw her weak, an' I loved lookin' after her like my wicked l'il princess deserved-but when she was strong- ooooh." He shivered deliciously. "Drain a mob in ten minutes flat, then lick her lips, an' damn near fly, leapin' across the rooftops, laughin'..." He sighed happily. "God, she was amazin'."

Buffy's look of disgust slowly changed to one of quiet amusement at his lovestruck tone. "You didn't mind that she was as strong as you?"

"Hell, no. I was lucky to have someone like her." He murmured fondly. " 'Course it must've been different for you an' him. You weren't equals, he's all human." He cast a look at her from the corner of his eye. "Another thing you miss about ol' Broody? Bein' treated like an equal?"

"Yeah." Buffy replied automatically. Only- no. They'd never been equals. He always treated her like she needed protecting, which, hey, at 16-she'd needed more help. But equals, as in partners, capable of having a say, helping make the long term plans? Not so much with the equality. "Well- he knew we were both physically pretty equal. But he didn't always remember that -other times. Still way better than Riley. Angel- he loved me, he wanted to keep me safe. Riley just didn't like that I could have picked him up with one hand." She laughed bitterly.

"He's gonna lose his rag when he hears what we did tonight." Spike groaned suddenly.

Buffy shrugged. "If that means get really mad- then, yeah. And so what? We did the right thing."

"Don't put it like that, please, Slayer." Spike admonished. "I didn't do it 'cause it was 'right'. Did it to jack up those commando pillocks."

"You said please." Buffy ignored him and stuck out her tongue.

"Yeah, well... I'll be makin' _you_ say it plenty, an' damn soon. Now go- get your togs." Spike pulled into a loading zone near Buffy's dorm.

"Does that mean clothes?"

"I'm gonna have to get a Brit to Yank, Yank to Brit dictionary for you. Yes, it means clothes. Now go." He shoved her back lightly. "The sooner you get back, the sooner we can go get good and distracted from the happy endin' set."

Buffy nodded, silently noticing how he'd used her own words to describe Willow and Oz.

* * *

><p>Buffy knocked softly on the door. "Willow? Oz?"<p>

Willow opened the door, wearing a different outfit and carrying a candle, a knapsack slung over her shoulder. "Buffy, hey." Willow stepped back inside the room, hoping her face looked composed and not at all nervous about what she was about to go do, or sad for what she'd just done.

"I just need two seconds, I'll be so fast." Buffy skittered in and beelined for her closet, keeping her eyes averted. After a second she looked up as she stuffed a duffle bag and noticed the room had two occupants, not three. "Where's Oz?"

"Buffy..." Willow swallowed hard.

"Hey- I'm all with the woo hoo- and you're not." Buffy stopped rooting in her closet and looked pointedly at her. "Where's Oz?" She repeated.

Willow sidestepped the most difficult part of the question, and replied, "No, there's 'woo' and, and 'hoo'. But there's 'uh-oh', and... 'why now?' And... it's complicated."

"Why complicated? Why uh-oh? Is he feeling okay? Is he worse than we thought? Is it hospital time?" She looked around in alarm, as if expecting him to materialize.

Willow steeled herself and spoke slowly, dreading this moment with all of her heart, all that wasn't already in turmoil. Buffy was going to kill her, letting her risk her life, Xander's life, and maybe get killed, and not telling her the truth first. And then Buffy was going to freak about the Tara thing, never want another hug, never want to undress in the same room again, maybe never share a room again, maybe never be _in_ the same room again. "Buffy, It's complicated... because of Tara." Willow put the candle and her bag down, looking at Buffy with pained eyes.

"You mean Tara has a crush on Oz? Is that where he is, is Oz with her now?" Buffy gaped, and made one more frantic check of the room. Willow shook her head slightly, a look of regretful resignation on her face. "No?"

"He's gone, Buffy. Because of her. Well- how I- I feel about her." Her voice was scarcely audible, and her whole body was ramrod stiff, scared to move or she'd burst into tears or shake.

Buffy's mind slammed from a hundred miles an hour rush of worry and confusion to a complete halt. An explosion of more confusion and realization occurred. "Oh!" was all she could manage to say.

Willow smiled wanly, but couldn't say anything.

Buffy let the hanger she'd been holding drop limply from her fingers and she paced, trying to say the right thing, not the thing she wanted to say, which was "Are you INSANE? Are you throwing away a second chance that I would KILL for?" Instead, she stumbled over the other screaming thought in her head. Tara. And Willow. As in Tara and Willow together. " Oh. Um. Well... that's great. You know- I mean, I think Tara's

a really great girl, Will."

Willow's voice barely shook. "She is. And- there's something between us. It-it wasn't something I was looking for. It's just powerful. And it's totally different from what

Oz and I have. Had." She whispered.

Buffy was a split second from losing it, from crying out about injustice and wasted time and broken hearts that could've been repaired- and realized just in time that Willow looked terrified. _She's not terrified that you're going to yell at her about losing a second chance with Oz. She's afraid you're going to turn on her. Shun her. Because of who she wants, who she loves. Worry about your fairytale ending later. Right now- just don't let Willow think you're going to stop loving her. You loved a vampire, and she didn't go postal on _you. "Different, huh? But good different?"

"Yes." Willow half reached for Buffy, and then drew her hands back hastily, as if Buffy wouldn't want to be touched by her anymore.

She swallowed and nodded, pacing once more. "Well, there you go. I mean, you know, you have to - you have to follow your heart, Will. And that's what's important, Will."

" Why do you keep saying my name like that?" Willow whispered in a choked voice.

"Like what, Will?" She forced some extra happy "oomph" into her tone.

Willow bit her lip. "Are you freaked? I mean- am I going to - lose you, too?"

Well, that settled it. Even if the broken heart inside her was fuming and crying out that there was no justice, that there were no happy endings, ever- the friendship in her heart was stronger right now. Willow had kept her going through all crises in the last three and a half years, and she would never, ever leave her- let herself be "lost". There was enough pain going on without adding to it. "No, absolutely _no_ to that question. No matter who you love- _I_ still love _you_." Then, with suddenly comically wide eyes she clarified- "not like- that. Oh, geez. I'm sorry. I don't know what to-" She trailed off, hugging Willow tightly. "But I'm not going anywhere."

"Thanks." Willow hugged her back like she was holding onto a life preserver. "I've been so scared to say anything. It's so hard..."

"What did Oz say? What about last night?" Buffy demanded suddenly. "I mean, last night, you two were together? As in _together,_ right?"

"We spent the night, yeah, we talked until dawn. Nothing else. I- I hadn't made my choice until after he'd left for the day- I mean- I think I knew, had known, but then- boom, he was here. And it was confusing." She rubbed her aching temples. "It was like everything I ever wanted came back- and it didn't fit just right anymore. You know?"

Buffy nodded- then shook her head. "Not so much with the knowing, Will." _Because no one's ever come back for me, come back to stay and not leave me again..._

"It's like- we used to fit together perfectly, two puzzle pieces. Then we spent time apart, and we changed and we grew. He came home, and suddenly- the pieces didn't match up to make a picture anymore."

"But Tara and you? You fit together?" Buffy asked softly, wondering if that could really happen. Could you ever have the one you loved leave for long enough that if they came back it could be too late? Oz hadn't even been gone as long as Angel had. No. Not her and Angel. If they ever got together again, they'd fit, they'd have to- only- what if they'd changed too much already?

Willow was trying to think of a way to explain it, but could hardly reason it out in her own mind, so she cobbled together an explanation. "We've never- I mean- I think we both know, Buffy, but we never told each other. I was just going over there. To see if we- um -fit." She blushed brightly, even in the dim room, Buffy could see her cheeks turn rosy.

"Oh. Oh, Will... She's crazy about you." And as soon as Buffy said it, it was so obvious, she was amazed she'd been so blind. The shy smiles, the way they sat so close together, the constant touches, small and innocent but always there."She's liked you like this for weeks!"

"I know. Me, too. But I'm not- she's my-" _First_ was the wrong word, even though it was true. "She's my only one." Willow supplied. "I don't feel like this about other women- I mean- don't think you can't get changed in here- I don't love you like that." Willow babbled tensely.

"Will- I got it." Buffy bit back a laugh.

"It's like- it's like you and vampires." Willow quickly tried to put it in terms Buffy could relate to.

"What?" Buffy's own cheeks suddenly went red, her voice up a few pitches.

"You're not- um- vampire-sexual. You just liked one."

"Oh. I get it. You're not- gay- you just like Tara?"

"I think I'm just in love." Willow murmured shyly. "When I'm in love- it doesn't matter the gender, y'know? Like with you, it wouldn't matter the species- as in human or vampire. It's the person. I love Oz. I love Tara."

"You love her more?" Buffy whispered, wondering if such a thing could be possible, wondering is she was projecting her own version of love onto everyone else. Or maybe it was just people like her and Angel, and Spike and Dru- who had this concept of big, nasty, destiny-riddled, angst-filled forever love.

Willow shook her head. "Differently. Maybe more. Maybe- maybe a lot of things, Buffy. I don't know. It's new. When Oz was here again, I could just feel everything coming back. It made me question everything." She wiped at her eyes suddenly. Buffy gave her a sympathetic nod. "He's _Oz,_ you know?"

"Yeah. I know."

"I didn't wanna hurt anyone, Buffy. But-"

" No matter what, somebody was gonna get hurt. That's how you know it was love, the real stuff. Love isn't always nice and neat. Not always rational. It's supposed to leave some mark inside..." Buffy recalled her conversations with Spike on the subject. That's how she knew it wasn't real with Riley. Their breakup made her mad, and hurt, and feel conflicted. But it didn't break her heart. Only love can do that. "The important thing is that you had to let someone go, you didn't want to hurt them both by not choosing. Love is- one and only stuff." _Then how can you have two, ever? One and only shouldn't mean one at a time. It should mean one and only. Period._ Buffy wrestled these protests down and let Willow continue.

"I still love him. But I know- this time isn't our time. It's done. Because Buffy, with him- it was always going to be the heavy love. Sure, that's okay, but with Tara," Willow swallowed, "there's more. There's love, and happiness, and comfort. It's different. But it's worth it. Even if I'm freaking myself out because I don't know what I'm doing and I don't know what people will say when they find out..."

"I won't tell until you tell." Buffy pledged. "We all have some secrets..."

Willow nodded gratefully and they embraced again, both wiping at each other's eyes, fixing mussed hair, smiling hesitantly. "Are we okay?"

"Nothing you ever do, no one you ever love, changes you and me. Our 'okay-ness' is guaranteed." Buffy vowed- and a little part of her mind hoped Willow would repeat the oath. Because she didn't know what anyone would say if they caught her and Spike together- but it wouldn't be a big happy moment. _Not that I care too much right now. I can't even give happy moments to my best friend, of course I can't have a big happy moment for myself..._

"Totally!" Willow agreed with alacrity. "Same here. I care about you, and your choices are yours. I'll stand by you." Willow swallowed a lump reforming in her throat. "You're really not wigged?"

"Nope." Buffy soothed. "Un-wigged. Totally bald."

Willow and Buffy shared a giggle and some teasing pushing around for a minute, before they were both on their feet, hugging once more. "You don't have to rush off now." Willow gestured to the duffle near Buffy's feet, and then her own bag, laying on the floor beside her. "I'm going to go visit Tara. She must be so worried. Without the power- I didn't - she doesn't even know that I chose. That Oz's okay, and that he's gone."

"You'd better go then. You have plenty to talk about." Buffy squeezed her once more.

"Thanks." Willow nodded, took the candle to light her path to Tara's dorm, and left.

* * *

><p>Buffy collapsed onto her own bed, weak with emotional shock. Without Willow there, her rage and frustration poured out, "After all that! We'd have saved Oz anyway, but come on! Reunited lovers! That was the goal, that was the impossible dream turned possible, and look at this mess- no one's together. No one."<p>

Her grief and selfishness took hold next. "If it had been me... it_ should_ have been me.I wouldn't be so stupid. I wouldn't waste it. Why isn't it ever me?"

Lastly, her hope and curiosity nudged to the front as well. "If she moved on- could I? I don't mean pretending. I mean for real? Nah. Who would I even move on with? Who would I ever even want?"

At that moment, a pounding came on the door shattering the silent, darkened dorm, still in the absence of power. "I checked the snack machines an' you weren't there! You know they don't work in a power outage anyway! Let me in, Slayer, or I'll bust in! I've got m'self an invite, courtesy of Red."

Buffy bolted to the door and yanked Spike through it, shushing him loudly. "You'll get the entire floor out here! And don't call me Slayer in public like that! Unless you want me to return the favor and go around calling you vampire." She hissed.

"Alright, alright." Spike jerked his arm from her grip. He'd changed into his own clothes while waiting for her, and he protectively rubbed the surface of his duster. "No grabbin', you'll bruise the leather. What's taking so long? Hey- where are-"

"Noticed that, huh?" Buffy walked away from him and flopped flat on her back on her bed, shaking her head. "I'm an idiot."

"Given, but where are our reunited wolf an' witch?"

"Back to me being an idiot. Fairy tales, happy endings- what the hell was I thinking, this is the Hellmouth! No one ever gets back together."

"What?" Spike's voice had a vampiric roaring quality that rattled the doors in their frames. "What are you saying, Slayer? He left? After all that, he left the girl?"

"No. She moved on. She's in love with someone else, she just hadn't told anyone . She didn't tell Oz until now, I guess... or something. It's private, but the main thing is- no Willow and Oz-ness." Buffy savagely beat a pillow.

"It's the other witch, init?" Spike ran both hands backwards through his hair in frustration. Buffy's mouth popped open and then closed. Spike continued without waiting for confirmation. "Should've known. I thought him comin' back would- well- I mean look at us, jus' as a 'for instance'. Not that we're all hearts an' flowers, but we do this thing we do, but if Angel an' Dru came back-"

"Goodbye so fast your undead head might fly off." Buffy concluded his thought. "Exactly. And- and how'd you know about Tara? Not that I'm saying you're right, just- why do you think that?"

" 'Cause your girl's been miserable without the wolf- as I've seen first hand, what with the bein' turned into your dotin' betrothed for an evenin' due to her heartbroken spells- an' when I saw her with the other wicca a couple days ago, she didn't smell the same."

"Eww, Spike. You sniff-_ that_? What is with that, you do that to everyone?" Buffy looked disgusted.

"Not _that_ type of scent, Slayer. The sadness. With the blondie, it's gone. Red smells like- I dunno, not quite the same. More magical, more happy, less likely to cry. I think it's the salt in the tears as much as the hormones that I get a whiff of." He slowly approached the bed. "Now you- you smell downright miserable."

"Yeah, well... unselfish Buffy has left the building." She languidly met his eyes, both of them able to see in the dark. "I'm going to start being a jerk- you can give me some pointers." She kicked off her shoes, hurling them to the far wall with her strong legs. "I don't think it's fair. I know that doesn't make any sense... I know I don't have any reason to get on my high horse about all this."

"Bloody well do! Both of us, but me especially!" Spike paced once and then roughly shoved her legs over and perched angrily on the edge of her bed, talking angrily down at her.

"Why do you get to be the diva?" Buffy snapped and considered pushing him off of her bed- but didn't, instead just nudging his hip with her toes in a pointed "I'm not willingly sharing my space with you" gesture.

"I risked my neck for the shot she had, that we didn't get!"

"Didn't we all?" Buffy sat up, fire flashing in her eyes. "I seem to recall both of us making an effort, not just you, Spike."

"When you go down there- you can fight back. When you went down there before, you were a good little soldier girl, on good little soldier boy's arm. When_ I_ went down there, I was a soddin' guinea pig. Plus- I'm evil. And that was very a unevil thing to do!" He paused and glared at her fiercely, rage and frustration boiling up at her, this little thing who'd made him open up, talk to his enemy, let her see the places she was vulnerable, an' twist 'em up, use his weaknesses an' turn him into a "good guy" for the night. "You _owe_ me, Slayer."

"Shut up, Spike, I don't owe you anything for doing something helpful. Besides, remember the cigarettes and blood? That's what you get out of this. That and knowing- you tried." Buffy looked suddenly strained and bewildered in her hurt. "Dammit. I tried. We tried for them, and- and I hear what she's saying about changing and the timing, and stuff...but I still don't get it! I don't understand how she... why she..." Buffy's voice became choked and suddenly broke into a wail. "I don't understand, Spike, and I'm sorry, okay? Sorry to put you at risk, and I know it was a risk for you more than us, but I didn't know! I didn't know it was going to end up like that."

"Whoa, whoa, easy!" Spike caught her as she pitched forward, pounding her fists into her knees and onto the mattress. "I know you didn't know. It wasn't your fault." He comforted, awkwardly patting her shoulders as they hunched.

"Why? I don't understand it." Buffy shook her head weakly.

"If she loved him, how could she move on? So quickly, too? That what you mean?" Buffy nodded against him, and they moved closer to one another, voices dropping, sadness oppressing them. "I don't think it's possible. Not for real. Not if it was real to begin with." Spike shifted Buffy around on his side and reached for his smokes.

Buffy sat up, wiping a hand across her eyes. "I don't know... maybe you can... if you find something better?" She sighed wearily.

"So I'm out of luck then. Bloody wonderful." He lit up and lay back, blowing smoke over his head in a blue gray wreath.

"Oh, yeah, right, Dru was a real prize." Buffy said sarcastically.

Spike shot up, nose to nose with her. "She was to me! And speakin' of prizes- your precious poof, he wasn't?" He challenged.

Buffy sat back, leaning away and resettling herself before she answered. Angel wasn't a complete win, no. "I love him." Buffy stated simply.

"That's not what I asked you." Spike twisted the knife in the hurt, and knew it.

"That's not what I answered, either." Buffy refused to be goaded.

Side by side, they sat on the bed, him smoking, her wordlessly picking the hem of her shirt.

"So why'd we bother then?" Spike asked in a dull tone as he put his cigarette out.

Buffy came out of her malaise with a start. "To save a friend, you idiot!"

"Not_ my_ friend." He muttered.

"Ooh, you are so infuriating!" She clenched her hands in exasperation.

"I know." In spite of his turmoil, he found time to be smug.

"Look, Willow still loves him. She'll always love him. She just won't always _be_ with him. She'll- love someone else more, or better, or different." Buffy explained to herself as much as him.

Spike snorted derisively, "Then maybe it wasn't even love to begin with."

"It wasn't like ours- I mean what we had with Dru and Angel. It was a kind all of their own, but it was love."

Spike paused, wondering if it was worth trying to argue with her, she of the very small brain and ruddy big stubbornness. Not much. Not without some more energy, and he didn't feel too energetic right now. "Screw the rest of this circus. I feel bad for Wolfy. He comes back, does the right thing- and she's gone. What was the bloody point of trying?"

She'd been wondering the same thing, but she tried to make sense through the pain , the constant soundtrack in her head that repeated an endless line of of questions, _Why them, why not us, what was the point, why bother, how come she can get better and I can't?_ "Even if they didn't make it work, it was worth meeting up again, worth coming back, because they got to clear the air, and now they'll at least be friends. They'll have someone they care about still in their lives- even if it's just- occasionally. " Buffy rationalized. Willow had loved Oz so much, been so sad without him, but as she explained it- they didn't fit together now. It didn't mean she loved him less. It didn't mean she wouldn't value him, that there wasn't something that could be salvaged from this stupid game of lovers' torment.

Her rationalization didn't impress Spike. It was his turn to throw his hands up in exasperation. "There you go with 'friendship' again. You never did understand the whole love/friendship thing. They'll never be 'friends'. They'll have been past lovers. That's all. That's all, Slayer, don't try to look for the silver lining this time."

"You might be the 'love expert', and that's a big might, buster, but you're the severely brain damaged one when it comes to friendship!"

"Gee, maybe 'cause vampires don't make friends, Luv." He snarled.

"No, not with your charming personality and your stupid habit of biting people!"

"Yeah, well, I don't have to have it to know about it. I can see friendship for what it is, observin' it- and I know what love is- lived it, died it. I know friendship when I see it, an' old loves don't get to be friends. They get to look at each other with big, hurt eyes, and try to keep up the pretense. As you well know." He stared her down.

"You have a severe case of martyrdom." Buffy glared.

"You'd know." Spike grinned snidely. "Martyr's the second line in the Slayer anthem, init? Kill the beasties, be killed by the beasties?" He quirked a single brow in her direction.

She ignored his taunt, even though it stung. "I don't think you know as much as you think you know." Buffy pushed.

"An' that's a hell of a run on." Spike snorted.

"Well listen to yourself, Mr. I Observe the World so I can Judge Everything and Everyone. Maybe you've lost your observe-y touch. With this 'I'm the tragic lover and I am not tainted by friendship'. What about you and-" _Oh good job, Buffy. Talk yourself into a corner much?_ "- uh- you and, um... never mind."

Spike stared at her in horror. " Oh no, you can't seriously-" He pointed to the small amount of space between them, finger waggling back and forth, gesturing to both of them. "I know you're stupid, Slayer, but you can't seriously think that... I mean we joke about it, but the two of us as friends is just-" He couldn't even find a word for the sheer unfathomable-ness of the concept. Fortunately, the girl didn't leave him time to think of it

"No! No, not ever." Buffy hastily backpedalled.

He let out an unnecessary breath. "Good. The _idea_! Bloody stupid."

"Hey, if we're throwing stupid around- _you're_ the one who said it! Yesterday, in fact." She stuck out her tongue.

Spike looked uncomfortable and tried to turn it into looking haughty and indifferent. "A slip of the tongue. You an' me, we could never be-"

She raced to agree. "No, we could never be. "_ Only- I hang out with him all the time now. We see movies. Well, we've seen_ a_ movie, and tried to see another one. We grab snacks. I go to his place. Oh, crap, and now he's here, with me, in my place. Plus the entire having had him so deep inside my body and my head that I feel like he gets me better than Will and Xander- and my body fell in love with his body... But then I hate his guts and want to beat him to a pulp most of the time. Except most of the time isn't most of the time anymore. Dammit- _could_ he be? He said it out loud first- but I thought it before he said it. I thought it last week! Oh God. I am terminally stupid... No. No, we are going to push this idea away._ "You're not a friend, Spike. You can't have a friend you hate." Her voice rang out defensively.

Spike looked amazed at her, how much passion she shoved into two sentences. "Course not." _So why the hell are we sittin' on her bed, alone, in the dark? Why is there a bottle of her stupid soda chillin' next to my blood in the car? Why are her panties in my back pocket? That doesn't matter, I could fuck someone without likin' 'em. Harmony's proof of that. Although- sod it- I _do_ like her- when I don't want to kill the bitch. The dark and the bedroom and the undies don't make us friends. It's the fact that I came up to her soddin' room to find her. The fact that I cared and wanted to keep a little souvenir of the first time she ever pulled me into the backseat... that's what's gonna turn me into her "friend". No. Not bloody happening..._ "Can't have a friend you hate." He reiterated.

"No... although- Cordelia Chase. Ooh, not good. There's a precedent, Spike." She sounded genuinely worried.

So did he. "Bloody hell. Seriously, Slayer, I'd still kill you!" He cried.

Buffy folder her arms and grumbled, pouting slightly as she said, "I'd still kill Cordy too, if she ever called my shoes ugly again. Who died and made her fashion queen, anyway?"

Even though he knew it would just complicate his unlife, he laughed and heard himself saying. "So, we can be friends like this, for now- but the moment things change, sweet thing-" He began to warn her, but she cut him off.

"You'll be filling up the dust buster?" She grinned broadly.

"Right- the second after I've turned you into my little blonde-"

This time her cut off was frantic, and she moved away from him. "Whoa. Whoa whoa whoa. You said kill me before. Freshly plucked head, bloody pulpy body, still beating heart? What's the deal? Where was turning? There was no turning!" She freaked.

Spike blinked and rubbed the back of his neck in a nervous gesture. "Well- thought you might like to see how the other half lives. Or doesn't." He fixed her with cool eyes, collected features.

It didn't help, it didn't assuage the rising tone and the irate body language. "NO! No, you can't, you can't _ever,_ I will never, ever-"

"Shhh, Slayer, cool your jets." He grabbed her shoulders as she seemed ready to take flight from the bed. He could feel her shaking all over, most of it anger, but a little fear, if he read her right. He gave her a long, searching look. "That really scares you, doesn't it?" He said appraisingly.

Her voice was a flinty whisper. "Nothing about you scares me, Spike."

Spike knew she was lying and he positively itched to taunt her. But instead, he swallowed his words. "I thought I might miss havin' you around, Slayer." He murmured sincerely. "You know? Someone endlessly annoyin' but easy on the eyes? And not brain dead or blatherin', barkin', mad." His hand left her shoulder and lightly touched her cheek.

Her eyes widened, first in surprise because- wow- sweetish but so, soooo wrong- and then in horror. _No. No, he can't be. Not starting to care. Not like "friend care"- but like- like "taking me for his eternal lover care". Oh God. So bad. So very, very bad._

Spike realized how it sounded, like he was getting soft on her. Not just tolerant, not just non-hating. Soft. Mushy. No. He jumped in. "I'll settle for a lock of your hair- or maybe just all of it. Scalp attached, mind you." He flashed a feral grin.

Buffy was relieved, and her head rested on his shoulder as she laughed in the aftermath. "I'll save the vacuum bag I suck you up in. Maybe put you in a nice little urn. Pink. With daisies?" She threatened brightly.

"God no..." He winced, but he laughed with her, head on hers.

"Ohh. Man. We're both such a mess. Maybe we should revisit the friends idea?"

"Fine. Friends." He conceded with as much hostility as he could muster. "But I still hate you."

"I know. Ditto. And weird as it is- I'm so glad about that." She leaned further into him, taking comfort from her new "friend".

"So. We get a friend out of this. Gotta tell you, Slayer- I think I'd rather have had the whiskey."

"Take what you get, ass." Buffy headbutted his jaw lightly, but didn't move from his arms. "I'm wasted. This emotional crap needs to stop. It's been two straight weeks of heart and mind shittiness and not a lot to kill. How can I be so drained and so revved all at once?" She whined.

"Dunno. But I got the same thing. I'll head out then, Slayer. You comin', too?"

Her arms tightened slightly around his lower back, head moving subtly deeper into the hollow of his neck. "Stay."

"Not a dog, Slayer. You gonna tell me to roll over next?" Spike hissed, not really mad.

Buffy bit her lip and shook her head at his stubborn streak. "Yeah. I am." She slid to her knees suddenly, hands hard on his shoulders, shifting him, turning him. "Roll over?" She whispered, and watched him move.

He rolled, willingly, onto his back, looking up at her as she suddenly straddled his waist, hands on his pecs. "Oh."

"You don't want to be alone."

"No." He forced the admission out.

"You don't want to be with me." She ran her hands over his chest, finding his tight, small nipples, then tracing each muscular ridge of his chest through dark fabric.

"No." He agreed quietly.

"But here we are. Two people with broken hearts, who just risked our lives to fix someone else's. Only to find that we almost got turned into secret agent soup for nothing. I'm so mad I could crush something, so sick of this I could scream."

She found herself on her side with one swift tug of his hand, and pinned, dark blue eyes in white blue moonlight making him look more pale and almost ghostly. "So you wanna take it out on someone?" He lifted his scarred eyebrow suggestively.

"No... I wanna take it out _with_ someone." She gasped as he dug his hands into her soft sides.

"In this room? Are you mental?" Friends she might possibly admit to, but shagging him out of her own free will? Never.

"Willow won't be back. All night. She's gone to see the new 'love of her life'." Buffy didn't realize how bitter and bitchy sounded until she heard herself spitting the words out.

"Stupid bint."

"Hey!"

"Her, not you. Well- not _just_ you." Spike's hand softened and rested just below her breasts. "She's a fool, if she doesn't realize you can only have one."

"She's not a fool. Maybe she's smarter than us..." Buffy whispered.

"I don't know." He admitted.

"I don't either. Could you just- make me forget, if I help you forget?"

"No one ever makes you forget, Luv." Spike felt her hands gliding up his arm, hand under the coat, over his shoulder, clothes were coming off. "But we'll give it a bloody good try."

* * *

><p><em>Across Campus...<em>

Willow had spent the better part of the hour walking around, trying to think of what to say. How to explain it, how to tell her. How do you tell someone you've never even asked out, like, _officially_ asked out- that you love them? That you turned down your first and really only boyfriend ever- the guy who found a cure for something that was so devastating and returned home to you- for her? How can you explain that? That you don't actually consider it giving up as much as getting something beautiful and different in exchange.

Well- it wasn't getting explained by pacing the lobby of Tara's dorm. Holding her flickering candle aloft, she began slowly climbing the stairs.

Tara sat in the dark, peering out the window. She had candles, dozens of them, for magic use. But she didn't care to light them. The darkness fit her mood much better, feeling bleak inside and sick with worry. Willow hadn't called. That could mean many things, all of them bad. _Maybe she doesn't want to speak to me. Maybe she's with Oz. Maybe Oz never made it out, and Willow is in mourning now. Because I made him mad, because I made him change and got him caught and maybe I'll never even see her again..._

Willow knocked on the door, holding her breath.

Tara jumped slightly and raced to the door, hoping against hope that... well, she couldn't voice all that was jumbled in her heart.

Willow smiled hesitantly at her golden girl, standing there with an anxious expression on her face. "No candles? Well, I brought one. It's extra flamey." She held it out as Tara wordlessly stepped back to let her inside. Willow pushed the door closed behind her and placed the candle in Tara's hands.

Willow gulped. Tara was still silent and again, the words weren't coming by themselves. Heaving a deep breath in, she began. "Tara, I have to tell you-"

Tara stumbled over the words that she'd been rehearsing over and over. She had words for every scenario, judging by Willow's anxious look and peace offering- she was sure she was being let down gently. "No, I-I understand. You have to be with the person you l-love." Her tears reached the rims of eyes suddenly but didn't overflow. She gave a tremulous smile to encourage her friend. Her almost more than a friend...

Well, sometimes the words just drop into your lap. "I am." Willow said simply, smiling gently.

In shock, Tara's jaw dropped and words shakily emerged. "You mean...?"

"I mean." She stepped a little nearer. "O-okay?"

"Oh, yes." Tara laughed softly.

"I feel horrible about everything I put you through. A-and I'm gonna make it up to you. Starting right now."

"Right now?" Tara's voice was barely audible, breathing getting more shallow in excitement and relief.

Words failed. Willow smiled and nodded. Tara leaned down and blew out the candle.

Willow's chest went into a spasm, invisible iron bands wrapping around, squeezing out the air, leaving her voiceless._ I'm alone in Tara's room. With the lights off. And I love her. She loves me._

"I was so scared all afternoon and all of tonight. And then I didn't know what had happened..." Tara held out her hands and took Willow's in her own.

"Me, too. The scared part. And it's still- scary."

"Don't be scared. I love you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything." Tara lightly touched Willow's cheek. "We- we don't h-have to rush things. Things that worry you."

"Shh. It's okay. I'm not scared now. You- _love_ me?"

"So much. So, so much." She confessed.

"Oh, good." Willow laughed, letting out a sharp, panting chuckle of relief, and hugged Tara hard.

_Oh, wow... this is a different kind of hug. Oh, double wow._ Soft breasts that had seemed so comforting earlier had gone into the erotic, making-Willow-wet category. They'd never done that before. _Because we weren't in love before._"What do you feel like doing tonight?"

"Whatever you want." Tara whispered, hugging her back, inhaling the soft floral scent of her scarlet hair, nuzzling their soft cheeks together.

"I'd really kinda like to kiss my- my girlfriend." Willow spoke hesitantly.

"Me, too." Tara blushed- no bloomed, into color, and happiness flooded her, as she let her hands cup the beautiful, doe-eyed face she'd fallen in love with.

Willow leaned into the embrace, head tilting and eyes closing and waited for something weird to happen. Like a big neon sign to point to her head saying "Gay now!" Or some big chemical change. Nothing. Nothing, that is, but the softest, sweetest pair of lips in the world, and the most perfect angelic face cuddled up with hers.

They pulled back and came together again, multiple times, tongues cautiously slipping in once or twice, lots of giggling, getting more and more serious, more and more hands on.

"A-are you happy?" Tara asked at the end of one long bout of kissing.

"Very very very." Willow beamed and pressed her lips to Tara's again.

"Um. We could- we could go get something to eat? Do you want t-to go out some place?"

"No. Why? I mean, I do- if you do." Willow twisted her hair nervously around a finger.

"No!" Tara agreed with an eager blush. "I just didn't w-want you to think th-that we had to do ... stuff. Or- _o-only_ stuff." Tara explained quickly. Her wide blue eyes, framed by thick curling lashes looked beseechingly at Willow. "You know I'm just happy to be with you, right?"

"Me, too! So much. I missed you so much today, and I was so worried about Oz, and about you... I'll tell you all about what happened- tomorrow?"

"M-maybe over breakfast?" Tara suggested, her unspoken invitation to spend the night wrapped up in her hint.

"I'd love that." Willow smiled, and laced their hands together. "We could light some candles maybe? Or- or should we keep things dark?" _Was Tara shy? I'm shy. Oh God... naked Tara thoughts. Not just painting each other's backs with henna, naked, frontal nakedness for the sake of nakedness. To touch her and hold her and make love. With my sweet earth goddess. Most beautiful girl in the world._

"W-we could do some candles." Tara stammered, and abruptly dropped Willow's hands and went to her trunk in the corner, where she kept most of her magical supplies. "We could do a spell? Since we have to use up my stock of candles anyway?"

"Oh, we can keep it dark, I don't want to use your stuff." Willow hastily offered.

"This is good, though. I mean, a good use. We could do a -harmonizing spell. T-to um- help us align our auras."

"Oooh, elemental magic. We haven't done too much of that."

"That's because if you mess up you'll create a huge disequilibrium in the atmosphere. But this is basic. It's only to help our_ own_ elements." Tara drew out candles and four small vials, then some thick black paste and small wooden dowels.

"You're Earth." Willow said with absolute certainty. Tara nodded. "You have to be, you're so wonderfully giving and nurturing. You bring life to everyone around you. Especially me." Willow brushed their lips together again.

"You're Air. Passion and strength and freedom." Tara pressed a feather into Willow's palm.

"Me? Strong?" She looked disbelieving.

"Very strong. W-we compliment each other." Tara shook a small handful of sacred earth into her own palm and motioned Willow to join her in the center of the hardwood floor. "See? You've got the energy and the freedom- I've got the stability and the roots to keep you grounded."

"So- Air and Earth belong together?" Willow clutched the feather tighter.

"Yes. I mean- mostly. Sometimes it doesn't matter to people, but sometimes it helps. Find your balancer, or find your match, someone who's the same. Like Anya and Xander. They're both Fire elements."

"Xander? Fire? Really?" Willow blinked. she could believe that about Anya, all flames and bursts.

"When he's tested- he has the power." Tara said firmly.

Picturing Xander half-carrying Oz into Giles' living room, picturing him rushing off, armed with nothing more than green khakis to infiltrate a secret government army base- she'd known that he had the power all along. "I know he does."

Willow helped Tara use white and black chalk make a compass rose with elemental symbols and talismans at each point. Then they sat at their respective points, facing each other, Willow at the northern most point for air, Tara at the southern most for the earth.

"Symbols on each wrist, a-and the heart." Tara blushed and held out the black paste. "It gets messy."

"Shirts off?" No big deal, They'd done shirts off before. But not- not like lovers looking at each other. "That's a good idea."

"You'll need to draw mine on me." Tara fiddled with her flowing blouse for a moment, looking into her lap. "If you do it upside or backwards 'cause you're looking at it from your own perspective, you can mess up the whole balance."

"I already mess up enough spells. You'll do mine, too?"

"S-sure." Tara started shyly rolling her blouse up, revealing her smooth, undefined torso, generous breasts, and honeyed, sloping shoulders.

Willow hoped she wasn't staring in a "I want to start getting sexy with you" way, just an appreciative way. She hurriedly took off her own blouse and wished she'd thought to put on something sexier in the line of underwear instead of her pastel pink basic B-Cup. "Over the heart?"

"Right." Tara's hand shook for a second, then steadied. "Lean forward?"

Willow leaned forward, breathing accelerated, and Tara placed her hands under hers, drawing the elemental symbol for air on each wrist, then slowly, gently, cupped the top half of her left breast, making her gasp.

"Sorry!" Tara dropped her hand guiltily.

"No! Please- don't be sorry." Willow replaced her hand, leaning forward even more, letting them kiss again.

Willow felt the air crackling with magic already, as soon as the symbols were drawn on, sinking into her skin, rejuvenating her. Tara's symbols were drawn next, with an eager hand, a hand that enjoyed the weight of soft breasts more than she would have dreamed possible. "Your skin is cream. No- better. Like buttercream frosting!" Willow kissed Tara's throat once as she finished drawing the symbol over her heart.

Tara glowed under Willow's praise and felt the magic sink into her, calming her, strengthening her. They could do this, they could balance. They would fit together, find harmony. "Hands on my hands. No- you're on top." They both blushed hotly. "Air. Air is above Earth, so you hold my hands under yours." She clarified.

"Oh, okay." Willow slid her hands above Tara's and together they reached for the feather, then dropped it into the flame of the center pillar candle, before grabbing the sacred dirt together and dropping it as well. The candles at the elemental points for Air and Earth flamed explosively, bright white blazes shooting high and then wavering down to soft glowing balls of light.

"Now what?" Willow whispered.

"Air, Earth, blend, balance, bring us harmony- make us- one." Tara stumbled over the chant's ending. "We don't have to -"

"How many times?" Willow asked, ignoring Tara's hesitancy.

"Until you feel the balance happen. You'll feel it. I mean- I never- with just one other person. But with a calling circle, we did it, and you just know when it's balanced. You feel it."

"You say it with me?"

"Uh-huh. On three?"

"One, two, three- Air, Earth..."

Willow didn't know how long they'd repeated it, but it was working. At one point, she'd felt like she was on a see saw or on a boat, rocking, the world tipped up and down. Then it froze and leveled. They were flat but the atmosphere around them spun and swirled, and the candles were emitting waves of white and green, making a cocoon around them- and they were together. Really together, sitting knee to knee, arms around waists and shoulders, hands clasped in each other's hair, passionately kissing.

Willow toppled forward- on top, scattering the circle's candles and talismans, breaking the spell- but keeping the effects. "Tara..."

"Yes, yes, Willow." Tara mouthed between kisses. Hands came up- skirts went down. Everything went down or off, until two smooth, silk skinned bodies, one lush, one quite aptly willowy, were tangled naked on the floor, hands clasped as they smeared the chalk.

"Tell me what to do." Willow murmured.

"Love me." Tara said simply, eyes alight in the candles' glow.

"But I've never-"

"You'll know how. Feel with me. We're one now. You'll know how." She encouraged.

And to her intense surprise, and pleasure, Willow found that she did, clasping her lover in strong, soft arms, being held against soft, womanly curves, fitting together perfectly, so perfectly.

Fingers slid down and inside and against, earning little soft whimpers of pleasure and gasps of discovery. "I love you. I think I loved you from the second I saw you." Tara breathed.

"Really? That long ago?" Willow was awed. To be the one that was loved from afar, to be the one wanted in secret- that was new. That had never been her, it had always been her role to long for, not _be_ longed for.

"Yes." Tara blushed and swiveled her curvaceous hips against her lover's tentative fingertips. "I- I know it wasn't the same for you, but-"

"But I knew you were special the second you opened your mouth. I knew I wanted to be with you- I just didn't know how, in what way."

"I was yours?"

"As much as anyone has ever been, or ever will be mine." Willow answered, meaning it with all her heart.

* * *

><p>"Was that good for a beginner?" Willow asked timidly as lay with her head against Tara's bosom, listening to the slow, steady beat of her heart, comforted and sated beyond all remembering.<p>

"It was perfect." Tara sighed, snuggling her closer under the patchwork quilt.

"I know there's supposed to be more- um- more stuff. Not just touching and kissing." Willow assured her girlfriend, eyes sparkling up at her, uncertain of herself but trusting of her lover.

"It's whatever you want it to be. S-sex isn't so important. It's m-making _love_ that counts."

"You know something? You are the wisest person. Ever." Willow kissed her chin in a ticklish spot and made her squirm and giggle. "I can't wait to learn all about what you like, Tara. I'm gonna be a really good lover- if you just - I mean if we just -try?"

"Shhh, Willow, Sweetie. We can try as much as you want. We- um- we could try some more now? Nice and slow and cuddly? If you want! I don't want to be p-pushy, because I'm h-happy just-"

"Shhh. Nice and slow and cuddly." Willow smiled.

* * *

><p><em>Across campus...<em>

"Shh. Shh, not in the crypt remember? The neighbors in your digs are alive." Spike whispered, holding her close as she bucked under his hand.

"What do you care? I thought you'd like to make me scream." Buffy curled her naked legs around his, hands digging into his tight cheeks.

"I wanna make you say please. Beg for it." He licked down her neck, hot and sweaty from the night's fight and the beginnings of sex. His head dipped lower and the criminally flexible tongue teased over a nipple with a hard flick, making her gasp. "That was close. You need to say a little more." He smirked up at her.

"Do more, I might say it." She hissed back. "Or I might make _you_ say it instead."

"No, you won't." Spike slipped inside her with a hard thrust, feeling her arch eagerly against him, amazed that he was suddenly wrapped in so much heat, so much fire cresting against him. " 'Cause you're good, Luv. You give the good stuff. Freely. Like you care- like you-" Her mouth stopped the last word, to his relief. His lustful body made his even more foolish mouth start pouring out whatever he thought, whatever he felt.

"I don't need you to beg. You give all of yourself." Buffy whispered against his skin, so cool, so soothing, making all the aches leave, physical and mental, temporarily forgotten.

"You earn it- the way you work it..." Good sweet God, the girl's hips were like a perpetual motion machine- he supposed it was only fair, his were a matched set.

"Ahh- ahh- ahhhhh." Her gasps were rising, echoing his grunts. "God, Spike..."

"Yeah?" He grinned down on her.

"Yeah. Oh... ohhhh." Her eyes rolled up.

"Sweet Slayer. My sweet Buffy, that's it, have the first one nice an' fast an' hard... give you so many more..." He whispered against her satin skin, sinfully seductive words etching ideas into her brain.

Fast and hard- the first one. First of many. Buffy winced against his pounding rod inside her, pelvic bone to mound slapping her hard nub each thrust- getting her close, but not quite there. "Spike..." A little plea in her voice.

"What do you need, Luv?"

"Yes." Buffy gasped out. _That's what I need. Love. Not what I can get, not from him. Besides, that's not what he means, that's one of his little nicknames for me._

A spasm passed through him, worry on his face replaced with apology.

"No. No, I didn't mean it like that." Buffy panted, digging her hands into his shoulders, stroking his neck, redirecting him.

"Yes, you did. I don't blame you. I need it, too, an' we aren't gonna get it."

"I know that."

"Doesn't mean we can't act it out. My body an' yours..."

"Good plan." Buffy nodded and they shared a small, breathless smile before they launched into one another.

He grabbed her up to him tight, smothering her, feeling her clawing and biting him, kissing him with desperate little gasps. Only one thing he wanted and it would be perfect...

She gave it to him. "William, Spike, my sweet William. My sweet Spike..."

She'd never called him her sweet Spike. Yet another line blurred, another one crossed. And it felt wonderful. Hot, heady... someone calling for him, all of him. "My Buffy. My Slayer, come on beautiful, show me. Show me how it feels... make me forget the pain, make me remember why I care if it hurts." He snarled out desperately, hand working down between them, touching her where she was hottest and wettest- where she gave him that placebo effect love that was still working like a wonder drug.

She exploded around him, and milked him hard, not stopping when she came, forcing her muscles to grip him and release him repeatedly, bringing him closer and closer, much more quickly than usual. "Fill me up inside. That's what it does. Takes away the empty, even if it's wrong..." _That's how love is supposed to be, right or wrong, it isn't supposed to matter. Not that this is love, but it feels so good to pretend._

He burst with a shuddering roar, mouthing her name as he poured into her, pushing in, in, in until neither of them could move, until they were fused together.

"Wow." Buffy looked up at him, he looked down on her, both spent and partially stunned.

"Well done." He praised with a flicker of dry wit.

"Yeah- I'm guessing by the applause coming from down the hallway- that everybody agrees." She laughed weakly.

"I thought this was s'posed to be some deep, dark secret." He propped himself up on his elbows, forehead almost to hers.

"It's college, Spike. No one cares who you do and how loud you do it." She informed him, trying to sound careless, secretly thinking that that mindset was for Parker-like people who didn't understand anything about being with a person. Even being with someone like this.

"You aren't like that." Spike snorted.

"You aren't either." She smiled in a weirdly relieved way. For someone evil and jerky- he was pretty serious when he chose to be. She rubbed his back automatically, lovingly, part of the after glow. _Wow. We do afterglow now?_

"Ohhh, you've got good hands, too. You're built for this, Slayer."

"Don't change the subject- hey- are you- purring?" She asked, giggling.

"No!" He tried to move away, but she held him tight, pulled deep inside and pulled hard to her chest. She kneaded her hands in more vigorously and a rumbling little growl filled the air.

"Oh my god! You purr. You totally purr!" Her giggling turned into guffawing.

"It's a growl." Spike cried and pulled away with a slick, painful parting of their interlocked bodies. "I growl, I do not bloody 'purr'."

"Hey, don't get all macho vamp." Buffy followed him into a sitting position. "You're my friend- I'm allowed to know your deep dark secrets... you big kitty cat."

"Hey!" Spike lunged and they fell off the bed with a thud, wrestling briefly until she had him pinned.

"Want me to rub your tummy?" Buffy teased him.

"You want me to rubs yours?" He nudged her hips hard with his own, unseating her, rolling them onto their sides.

"Don't you dare! I'm ticklish!" Buffy grappled with him, but since he had no intention of injuring her, he was able to get her back onto the bed, and tickle her stomach until she squealed and squeaked.

"Listen to you, you little piglet!" Spike gloated.

"Ki-kitty cat!" She gasped back, kneeing him in his hard abs, making him flail, shout, and fall off the bed.

"Oww." Spike said grouchily and remained on the floor.

"Spike?" Buffy called.

"Ow." He repeated, more pitifully.

"Spike, are you-" Buffy leaned over the edge of the bed to check on her unorthodox friend-slash-once and future enemy.

"Gotcha!" Spike yanked her down on top of him, and rolled her underneath him, both of them laughing.

"I haven't- laughed- I haven't laughed with a guy like this in -ever." Buffy blinked up at him in puzzled surprise.

"I haven't laughed like this in at least six years. Since before Dru fell ill." Spike sighed heavily. "You're a strange girl, Slayer."

"So are you. Strange man. I mean- strange vampire."

"Don't strain yourself, Pet." Spike chortled. He gave her a bemused smile. "This isn't half bad. This sex an' giggles."

"It's called friendship, bloodbreath. F-r-i-e-n-"

"Okay, okay. Friendship. It isn't awful."

"No." Buffy agreed as she shifted under him, hands seeking that hidden spot to make him purr again. "This is nice."

* * *

><p><em>Across Campus...<em>

"That was nice. Even nicer." Willow, flushed and more confident, rolled out from the tangle of sheets and landed with a thump on the floor, smearing the elemental chalk outline further.

"Are you okay, Honey?"

"Okay-est." Willow grinned. "Although I'm kinda chalky now."

"It looks good on you." Tara smiled in the glow of the candles and sat up in bed, huddled under sheets and rocking happily back and forth as she held a pillow.

"The whole thing looks good on me. That spell is kick butt. Teach me more sometime?"

"Sure." Tara beamed, thinking again that Willow was perfect for her, a white witch and in love with her, as well as all the other absolutely amazing qualities she came with. "What do you want to know?"

"Tell me more about the symbols. What's Giles'? And how can you tell?"

"I can tell because I read auras, but you can tell by lots of other ways, even just by how they act. Mr. Giles is an Air sign, just like you."

"Anya and Xander are Fire. What was Riley?"

"Earth." Tara crinkled her nose. She didn't like being in the same elemental category with the unsympathetic man.

"Is Buffy Fire?"

"Yep. And Earth can put out Fire. Air whips it into a frenzy. Fire plus Fire just increases the power. Water can put out fire, too, but it's the only one that actually balances it."

"But doesn't Water kill Fire?"

"Not in this way. Think of the Fire as elemental, like heat, like sunshine. Water is the rain and the oceans. They need each other. Like a cosmic scale, you'd need water and fire to counteract, or in this case, counterbalance each other."

"So we should go find Buffy a nice Water-boy. That didn't sound right." Willow shook her head as she crawled back beside Tara in bed.

"Yeah... when she's ready. But it's tr-tricky." Tara frowned.

"More than being Chosen Secret Double Life gal?"

"Yeah. Buffy has- has a split aura. She's Fire and she's a radiant power."

"What? What's that?"

"Not elemental. Old ways. Above elements, the very basic powers. Light or Dark, sometimes called radiant and dark."

"Good and evil?"

"Not so much. Just types of powers, that come from different sources. Buffy'd need a guy who had a split aura to be fully balanced, in harmony, like w-we were." Tara blushed and brushed her hair to the side. "But most people don't have that and they're just fine, look at all the happy couples."

"I know. But oh man. That double aura thing has to be rare."

"Very. I've only ever seen two other people who have that."

"Who?" Willow asked curiously.

"Faith, the other slayer. She has the same type of split, but her aura is dark. Way dark, it doesn't fit with Buffy at all. Remember, that's how I knew when Faith was impersonating Buffy."

"So you have to have some supernatural mojo inside you. Oooh- like Giles, with his Watcher-y Goodness?"

"No, he's just a magic user like us. His extra power is external. Whatever makes Buffy and Faith 'Chosen' is an old, ancient form of power."

"Okay. Then Buffy's never going to have this perfect harmonic balancey thing? I mean- she already lost Angel, he might've been the one... I guess we'll never know now." Willow sighed. "Sorry- brain tangent. Who was the third person? Is there some secret Slayer hidden around here?" She demanded eagerly.

"Um. It w-wasn't so much a person as it was S-Spike." Tara choked out.

"What?" Willow screeched in surprise and fell off the bed again.

Tara pulled her back up, explaining nervously. "It makes sense! Th-there's the demon side, and the h-human side. The demon and human coexist and so do their auras. He has a dark power in him. The demon side."

"I thought the dark power wasn't evil."

"It's just power, it's either dark or light, 'cause it's only a source, he could just as easily have it be light. I mean, you couldn't call day good and night evil. It's the same for the ancient powers. So if Spike's dark, or light, it's whatever the demon has, I guess."

Willow was quiet for a few minutes, chewing her knuckles as she pondered something deeply troubling. "Tara?"

"What, Sweetie?"

"Just out of morbid curiosity- what is Spike's elemental sign?"

Tara looked up slowly, eyes widening. "Water."

_Fire and Water. Light and Dark. Split auras. Super mojo inside, two halves, slayer and woman, man and vampire. Crap! No, no, no, bad thought, very bad thought. You can't have a soulmate if the guy doesn't have a soul. On the other hand- no one said soulmate, they said balanced. Harmonized. At peace. Hmm._

"Willow? What are you thinking?"

"Nothing. Nothing really." She said hastily.

"Is it about Spike? And B-Buffy?" She hazarded.

"It's weird, isn't it? The two of them having all these matchy bits? Maybe that's why the frat house ghosties wanted them. Maybe that's why they're not hating each other after everything, and why they're kinda working together now."

"Sometimes powers and elements have nothing to do with it, Willow. Sometimes people just fall in love. Or like each other as friends. Or h-hate each other. It isn't like the signs guarantee some kind of m-match, or some kind of conflict. Everything works together, some just match up b-better." Tara shook her head. "There must be tons of vampires who have dark powers and their human sides were Water signs, so they blend. Spike's just the only one I've ever seen long enough to read."

"Ahh. I get it." Willow nodded. Another silence. "So... the fact that Spike and Buffy are perfectly 'balanced' doesn't seem weird to you?" Willow risked a sidelong glance.

"Oh no, it seems _completely_ weird! It's freaking insane!" Tara cried, eyes comically stretched.

"Ohh, thank God I'm not the only one. It seems so freaky to me."

"Very freaky." Tara nodded. "Those two... no way on earth. It's just coincidental. Signs and powers don't matter, as much as people getting along and b-being in love." she reiterated firmly.

"I agree. And I don't want to give Buffy one more thing to think about. She's so not looking for a guy right now anyway. She won't care about signs and symbols, yadda yadda."

"Especially not with him. S-Spike." Tara shook her head.

"No. No she wouldn't even want to consider... not, it's too weird. And kinda sick-making, although much less stomach turning since he helped rescue Oz." Willow lay back on the pillows. "It'd drive her crazy. Let's not say anything, okay?"

"Okay. I won't mention a thing." Tara grinned. Then the grin fell. "Oh. What about- us? I understand if you need time t-to tell p-people."

Willow leaned her head slowly to Tara's. "I already told Buffy. She's cool with it. Everyone will be cool with it. I think. It doesn't matter if they aren't. I have to tell them."

"You don't have to rush, Sweetie, I understand h-how h-hard-"

"It doesn't matter." She insisted softly, her smile growing with each second. "I can't keep good news like this a secret for long."

_To be continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Lots of reflective wordiness here. Heads up._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Lithium Reaper, DLillith21, lalabuff, Starscape91, lil-leti, Iambean, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part VIII

"We should clean up." Buffy looked around the room from her position the floor. Spike was sprawled beside her, stubborn erection finally gone down for good- it seemed.

"Are you _sure_ we're done?" Spike asked with a weak laugh. They'd tried this before. Each time, they found another reason to start again. Probably the fact that her spasms milked him to bursting and then kept going, her cumming longer and harder than he did, her prolonged spasms resuscitating him faster than his already normal demonic stamina would have allowed. That was one theory. In addition to other things... He looked over at the flushed form crashed against him.

She laughed in response. "It only took half a dozen times, but your flag seems to finally have been lowered."

"That's what you said the last time. Then all you had to do was get on your hands an' knees to fish under the bed for your shoes an'... mmm, Slayer." He bit his lower lip and let out a pleased grunt with a thoroughly debauched expression on his face. "You have a real hot little body, revives the dead man, if you know what I mean." He arched one brow and licked his teeth slowly.

"After the amount of tackling I took, and the fact that we moved the bed over half a foot in the process, yeah, I know what you mean." She rested her head on the rise of his collarbone and surveyed his pleased face. A sexy, naughty, handsome face. Not sweet and earnest like Riley's, or noble and reflective like Angel's. But it was a face she was definitely starting to put in the "glad to see" category more often than the "oh, no, not him" category. "To answer your original question- yeah, I think we're done. For tonight."

He ruffled her hair, then smoothed it, sinewy fingers untangling the mats that he'd given her, having her on her back, twisting and writhing, for an hour at a time. "It's technically today. Well past the witching hour." He smiled- and then they both frowned. "Sorry. Didn't mean to bring up witches."

"It's okay. I'm happy for them. I think I am. No, I know I am." Buffy forced herself to be positive and as unselfish as she could manage.

"Just sad for us?"

"Exactly. Both at the same time." She sighed and sat up slowly, easing her exhausted muscles that didn't want to hold her. And she focused on something else, because her mind didn't want to deal with emotional messes when it could deal with physical ones. "Look at this place!"

"It's not so- hmm." Spike looked around and had to concede it wasn't too neat, not by Miss Priss's standards. All the sheets and the comforter were falling off the bed,which had been rocked out of place, clothes were scattered across the mattress, the bedside table, and thrown to the floor, and the floor- well it would dry. And those drag and scuff marks in the carpet didn't necessarily point to hard, nasty fucking that made the Slayer reach new notes above human hearing, or slow, steady lovemaking that made him ache inside. Could've been any activity not just-

"Sex! This whole room! It's a monument to the wild crazy pelvic mombo!" Buffy started gathering the sheets up, and threw a towel at Spike. "Put that over the- wet spot." She blushed.

"Why you so ashamed of there bein' proof you enjoyed it?" Spike taunted but obeyed.

"I'm not, I just think soaking the carpet is a little excessive."

"_We're_ a little excessive." Spike moved behind her suddenly and pressed himself along the overheated curve of her spine.

"I thought we were done." Buffy gasped, but immediately started getting wet again. As if she needed any more fluid leakage. Between his evidence of enjoyment and her own, she was going to be soaked for a week.

"We're done shaggin'. Or-makin' love." He said hastily, both of them uncomfortable with the term. "Still allowed to teach you things, right?"

"If I need to learn anything evil, I'll check it out at the library." Buffy pushed his hands off her hips gently. His chin still hovered next to her ear, cool lips grazing her sensitive lobe as he spoke.

"It's not evil. It's sex takes time, makes a mess, and if it's done right- you don't think about the time- or the mess- when it's happenin'." He whispered in a low, husky snarl.

"I know." Her voice had lost it's edge. "And it was really good. All six rounds of it. God, what are you on?" She asked incredulously, moving away from him, half expecting him to be ready to roll again.

"Apparently, I'm high on you." He patted her hipbones lightly and helped her pull the sheets into place, then opened the window to let out the aroma of arousal they'd created, even though he knew human noses weren't really sensitive enough to notice it unless they walked right in on it.

"That's- sweet. In a drug addicted way." Buffy chuckled quietly and reached for her toiletry items as she rose. "The room looks better." She whisked her clothes into the hamper and kicked Spike's over to him. "I'm going to go have an icy cold, pitch black shower. If the showers still work with the power outage."

"Probably do. This is an old campus. Water and electric are most likely separate. Got a spare towel? I'm used to icy, pitch black showers."

"Uh- in the- here." Buffy stumbled over her surprise and handed him one of her fluffy pink towels. He took it with a sneer of revulsion. "I'm so sorry, I forgot to stop at the goth shop and pick up some skull patterned bath accessories." She sniped.

"If any guys in there see me in this they'll think I'm a poofter."Spike sighed, but wrapped it around his waist.

"If any guys see you in there- they'll be wondering why you don't reflect in the mirrors or why an old guy is in the dorms."

"I'm not old!" Spike shouted, offended. "Oh. Well, yeah, I'm _old_... but I wasn't even thirty when I was turned. I think I look dead fit."

"I'll agree with the dead part." Buffy smiled with false sweetness.

"Unless you want me to tell every jock an' dorm rat I meet between here an' the shower that you're a naughty little nympho, you'll take that back, Slayer." He warned.

"Unless you want me to stake you like a shish kabob, I wouldn't." She warned back. "But you wouldn't do that anyway."

"Oh no?"

"No, because you're my friend and you respect the code of the bedroom. Or car. Or cursed alternate dimension sexual holding cell..."

Spike laughed and then pulled a grimace, "If this is like a code of ethics, Slayer-"

"The code states that you don't sleep with people unless you have a very good reason. And you can keep a secret."

"Like you taste like honey?" Spike licked the back of her neck with a kiss as she turned away.

_Geez this guy had the moves..._ "Yeah. Like that. And the fact that you purr." She teased.

He jerked her to face him, snarling angrily. "I do NOT effin'-"

"It's such a sexy purr." Buffy interrupted, returning the kiss, only hers was on his Adam's apple, and she bit down softly.

_Bloody hell she's a wicked little piece under that good girl cover..._ "I'll keep my mouth shut if you will." He muttered.

"Good deal. Boys' showers are at the end of the hall, that way." Buffy pointed left. "Oh- hey- where do you take showers normally?"

"Water system that runs through the tunnels. Tunnels got plenty of things- if you don't mind the dark. Or rats."

"Not big on either, but really not big on rats." Buffy made a disgusted face.

"I figured. That's why I didn't mention it when you stayed over." Spike whistled jauntily and headed down the hall before she could say anything else.

Buffy walked down the hall and to the right, hearing his whistle in the dark, in the silence of a dead still hallway. _I spent the night at Spike's. He spent the night here. Well- part of it. Most of it. Our noisy sexcapades are gonna be the talk of the floor. If anyone even knew me. If Parker hadn't already told everyone I was an easy freshman slut. Forget about him, back to Spike. He's better than Parker, which, hey now, that's burying the needle on the wrong-o-meter._

_Bad Buffy. Would you focus? Spike! Friends. Okay, secret sex buddies, but now friends. Friends who spend the night. Now he's showering in my dorm. Using my towel. Friends- okay, but this is out of hand. What the hell would Xander say? He'd kill him. Anya'd applaud and start screaming "They've bonded!" Giles would have me committed. Will- Will really isn't gonna be an issue, because if she pulls any judgmental crap on me, I'm going to freak so bad there will be no one left to care. I will be supernova Slayer, all big and bursty with the fury and sharp objects. She threw away a chance Spike and I would kill for, and we get each other to help ease the pain. And there's a buttload of pain... Not that Willow isn't in pain- but at least she had some say in it the second time around._

_Dammit._ Buffy wiped her eyes under the stream of water that burst from the shower, cold and icy, with no pressure behind it. I_ thought I wasn't gonna think about that anymore tonight. What a lie. I'm gonna think about this for the rest of my life. Which is fated to be short so..._ "Dammit!" Buffy swore out loud this time and punched the wall of the shower so hard the built in ceramic soap rest fell off the wall and shattered at her feet.

"My night is just so perfect." She sighed bitterly and started scooping chips into a pile.

* * *

><p>Spike scrubbed himself down, humming tunelessly. <em>Well, that was a pleasant half a night. The second half. Okay, the first half was sorta fun as well, with makin' secret ops central crazy. No, the second part was... just a goddamned distraction. Gettin' us past the point of no return, sayin' we're friends, makin' love. Yes, lettin' myself "love" her, 'cause she needs it, and I need it, even though we don't mean it, even though there's no love in our hearts, we're all about the flesh, her an' I. I'm okay with this- but no more than this. I'm gettin' out of this shower an' leavin', not thinkin' about this little slice of bedlam anymore until tonight.<em>

_Except what the hell am I gonna do when I leave? Think about her. Or maybe Dru. No, definitely Dru. An' her. Dammit. Dru, wherever she is, her an' her bloody visions. Slayer's all over me, huh? Well, haven't I played along beautifully. Jus' bloody perfect._ He scowled bitterly.

He jerked the feeble stream of ice water to a halt and stormed back to the dorm room.

* * *

><p>"Hi." Buffy looked startled to see him back so quickly.<p>

"Hi." He answered gruffly. He'd thought girls would take longer about their ablutions.

"The water pressure sucks." She toweled her hair with loose swipes.

"No electric pump to pressurize. Just whatever's left in the system comin' out." he explained.

"Makes sense."

"Yeah."

"Yeah." Buffy huddled awkwardly in her ripped pink and gray sweat shorts and a tank top. Braless and underwear-less of course, because she was dressed for bed. Hence the awkwardness. In Spike's crypt, hell, in Spike's _world,_ everything was slapped together, no planning, no familiarity, everything was surreal. A car from the fifties or sixties. A bed from the Playboy Mansion in a cavern under a crypt. Blood and whiskey in the fridge, and his days were spent watching soaps and nights spent fighting and annoying her. And more recently giving her girl-parts the work out of several lifetimes.

Here was _real._ Here there were posters and homework and cds. Here there was a bed and her comfy old pjs. Here was real- and there wasn't any escape. If she was really getting ready for bed- and Spike was really standing in front of her, wrapped in her towel, dripping on her carpet- they were really friends, they were really lovers (for lack of a better word), and her lack-of-love life was really, totally screwed up.

"Slayer?" Spike watched the girl sink to the bed, hands over her mouth, shaking. "Buffy!"

"You called me Buffy!" She gasped. Another nail in the reality coffin.

"Been callin' you that all night!" Spike reached for her rapidly shaking head and watched her recoil from his touch. "Too good for me now?" He snarled. _Well, yes numb brains, an' you're too bad for her, as well. Still- weren't too proud to hold one another ten minutes ago._

"Really." Was all Buffy could say.

"Oh. Well, glad I'm not stayin' another second!" Spike hurled the towel to the ground and yanked his shirt over his head, jeans up over his feet next, angry at her attitude, and angrier at himself for minding it.

"No!" Buffy stretched out one hand urgently and brushed his elbow. "No. Not- not too good. Not too bad. Really real. This-" her face crumpled, "this is real. It was all real, it's all real, it's- here."

Spike paused in mid-zip. "You crackin' up on me?" He asked worriedly.

"You're in my room!"

"You told me to come find you an' invited me to stay!" He hollered, one hand flung out in bewilderment.

"You're in my room, and you're in my life! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" She gasped, tears overflowing.

"Oh, God. There's cryin' now?" He awkwardly reached for her chin.

"It's real."

"You keep sayin' that!" Spike cried. "An' I still don't get it."

"This isn't some one night sexual accident that fell into a week long fling! Or a two week fling at this point!" She fell back to the bed, knees drawing up. "If you're still here- and we're closer than ever- it all happened. Riley and I are over. Angel and I are over. I'm not- I'm not stuck in that waiting period anymore. I'll always be waiting- but everything is done. There's nothing to wait for."

Spike leaned slowly down and untucked her head from her knees. "The distraction wore off?" He murmured gently.

"You still distract me. You're still what's left, just like we said. But- but I can see through it now." She sniffled. "I'm not making any sense."

"Not to normal people, no. But to someone who speaks fluent barmy sack of hammers- yes."

"What's a-"

"We'll do your vocab later, Luv." Spike eased himself cautiously beside her. "What happened in the shower? Somethin' snapped your mind."

"When you have a guy wearing your towel and helping you clean up after sex, it's not a fantasy- don't flatter yourself, Spike, you know what I mean. It's not a nightmare, it's not a dream. Reality has reared it's ugly head."

Spike gave her a weak half-grin. "See, it was real to me the second you said you wanted to grab a burger."

She frowned, puzzled. "But that's-"

"That's not part of mad shaggin', Slayer." Spike interrupted. "That's when two people want to spend time together. For whatever sick purpose."

"The sad part is- I like it. I don't want to give it up, because it feels-"

"Real. Honest, easy." Spike said firmly. "No pretending- except what we want to pretend."

"Any other guy in the world would hate me for saying 'please make love to me but I'll never love you, and by the way it's a secret and I'm going to lead you on a million high mortality rate adventures." She looked up at him with bloodshot eyes. "You're the only one I can tell that to, 'cause you get it, and you can say the same thing." She sat up straighter, looking him in the eye. "There's more. I can punch you and you don't break. You're strong enough to make me feel something when you're inside, when you touch me. I can tell you you're a jerk and you don't get all hurt puppy. I can cry- I-I can tell you when it hurts, and when it doesn't and... and I never had all of this at once. It's a really big slice of reality pie and I don't want to eat it."

"I wish you wouldn't lapse into those soddin' metaphors." Spike rolled his eyes, and let his hand linger on her cheek. "But since you did, I'll join you. Don't eat alone. I'm the exact same way, Luv. I hate your guts, you know I don't want a commitment, know I'll never love you- but I sure as hell do love bein' with you. I rant an' scream an' tell you what hurts. You said it was bein' a friend. So- so maybe it doesn't feel like your other friendships, an' maybe it is a bit dauntin'. I can leave. Won't be the only time we've gotten left." He added before he could process how unfortunately tragic that sounded.

Buffy rocked to her knees and flung her arms tightly around his neck before she had time to stop herself or control her overemotional tongue. "Please don't leave." She breathed in his ear.

Tear stung his eyes so suddenly he winced. A million times he'd wished that wish, for Dru. No one had ever wished it for him. "Shh, Luv. I can stay."

"Will you- will you ask me before you leave?" She knew that was a relationship question, a lover question, not a friend question, _so_ not an enemy question. It was the question she wanted to ask Angel. But he wasn't here to ask.

"Ask?"

"Ask- if that's what I want, too. Don't _tell_ me. _Ask_ me?" She clung a little tighter.

"On one condition." His voice hardened but only slightly. "You be straight with me. When you wanna leave, you tell me. If you want me to leave, you say. None of this runnin' around behind my back, blamin' me for not knowin' what's in your mind, sayin' you need a bloody Chaos dem-" Spike stopped abruptly, frozen, realizing he'd projected just a little too much.

"I promise." Buffy whispered and hugged him tighter. _No wonder he's such a bastard. Drusilla doesn't deserve a devoted guy like that. Little whoring tramp._

"I promise. An' I'm good at keepin' my promises when I wanna be." He hugged her back in return- the first time in a century he could recall hugging a woman in a non-sexual way. Well- not sexual at the _moment_... "Here." He pried her off of him gently. "You ought to lay down an' sleep. You've had a buggered up day."

"So have you."

"I'm evil. It's my due."

"You're helpful evil. You get a couple free passes."

"You one of 'em?" He watched her settle back drowsily.

"I'm not free- but I'm a pass, I guess." She scooted over to the far side of the bed, wordlessly inviting him to take the other half.

"I was gonna head out." He said.

"Oh. Okay." Buffy nodded and sat up with a quick blush, invitation rejected.

"I mean- if it's alright with the lady of the house?" He tipped an imaginary cap to her.

_He's asking before he leaves. Wow. Why is the good listener a soulless bloodsucker?_ "Sure." She smiled. "See you soon."

"Count on it."

Spike slid into his socks and boots easily, and shrugged into his duster. "Night, Slayer."

"Night, Spike." Buffy locked the door behind him, and lay back on her bed, slowly rolling to her side and embracing a pillow, inhaling the smoky, masculine scent he'd left in the air. She got up and closed the window and blinds, wanting to keep the scent with her for longer. The exact opposite of what she'd wanted to do yesterday, when she was mortified to have the scent of him on her clothes. Now she clung to the fragrance. So she wouldn't feel so alone, so fast.

* * *

><p>Spike moved quickly through darkened halls and stairwells, out to his car, always looking over his shoulder for those Initiative chappies or their lab rat catchers. He untucked the key from his boot strap where he always hid it, and slid into the driver's seat. "Sod!" He knocked the bottle of diet soda and his bag of blood over as he reached for the gear shift.<p>

It seemed strange to see it there. Side by side. Proof of his demon, proof of her valley girl. And somehow man and Slayer got along as well. At least- marginally. All four parts of their personalities had managed to tolerate each other. Bloody amazing.

"Sod this." Spike shut the car off, grabbed the soda and blood, shoved them in the brown bag and marched back into the dorm, throwing doors open, slamming doors shut. "Fuck it. Fuck this bloody, stupid, bloody idiotic-thing!" He ranted and hammered on Buffy's door. "Oi!" He shouted brusquely.

"What? What, what?" Buffy flew to the door and threw it open, wide eyed and frantic looking.

Spike changed character in a moment, posture shifting from heated and frustrated to suave and nearly disinterested. "Uh- fancy a night cap?" He held up the bag with a lopsided grin and curled tongue, lids half lowered.

Utterly confounded and also really happy that he'd come back, Buffy pulled him inside. "Soda for me, please." She grinned.

"Hope you've got a microwave somewhere in this cubby, Slayer.."

"Spike... no power?" She gestured to the darkness.

"Oh. Well- it'll be warm enough. Warm night." Spike took the bottle and gave it to her, taking the blood out for himself.

"Take your coat off. Stay awhile." Buffy offered.

"Think I will."

* * *

><p>"I thought he'd be back by now." Buffy tossed the half empty bottle off the edge of the bed, joining Spike's empty quart bags that were crumpled beside the paper sack.<p>

"I know you did." Spike stared unseeing at the ceiling, feeling her warmth on his side, both of them on top of the comforter, dressed except for shoes.

"Oz came back. He tamed the monster in the man. Why not Angel?"

"I don't think he's lookin' for a cure, Slayer. That curse an' his soul are a package deal, yeah? He cures himself, loses his soul, an' you wouldn't want him anyway."

"But that's related to sex, Spike. That one true happiness moment is in afterglow only. And maybe it was only the first don't know, but it's too risky to find out. I'm not asking for sex. I'm asking for love." Her voice was low and steadily persistent. Her eyes were closed, face a mask of pain, but her body was relaxed, strangely comforted by her lukewarm bedmate. When Spike didn't answer, didn't comment, she continued. "Didn't I love him enough? Or doesn't he love _me_ enough?" She bit her lip. "Is that it? Is it that- he doesn't love me enough to make the effort? 'Cause I'm all with the effort. I mean- I was angry with him, and we've changed, but- I thought... I don't know. I thought there was enough love for anything. A guy comes back from hell for me, but won't drive two hours up from LA?" Her laugh was broken in the middle, pain leaking out under the mirthless burst.

"I don't have answers for you." Spike whispered after a moment or two of quiet, feeling her heartbeat and breathing slow as she began to drift towards slumber.

"It's okay. Friends just listen sometimes. It helps. And it's an unanswerable question anyway."

More silence, and then it was her turn to listen to a slow, reflective voice that seemed to be speaking more to himself than to her. "Life is full of those unanswerable things. Like to ignore 'em as much as I can." He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "But sometimes you can't ignore 'em. Over a hundred years together. An' I know each time she left me, each reason, an' for how long. I remember each welcome home celebration, a massacre an' a three day bender of make-up sex and blood that'd leave every other vamp in the world jealous. I only left her once- an' I was captured, not willingly takin' off, mind. She was so happy to see me come home finally- but she hadn't been waitin' while I was gone. No, not her, not my wicked ripe plum."

"Sorry." Buffy murmured, and traced a hand over his heart. His broken heart. Too bad only the one who breaks it can fix it, she mused.

"She was raised by Angelus and Darla. They weren't poster children for fidelity. Nor loyalty. Leave each other for dead, betray one another, fuck someone else out of spite- part of their games. They didn't want forever together. They just wanted forever." He laughed bitterly. "Sods. The together part was the only reason I signed on for this gig. To be loved, to never be left-" He bit off the rest of that sad tale and shrugged restlessly. "Doesn't always work, this 'forever love'." His eyes opened again, and met hers, soft, innocent eyes right now, dark and wide in the moonlit gray room.

"This is the longest time we've ever spent apart, Slayer. If she's not back by September- it'll be two years. It was never even half a year before." His voice cracked again, and this time couldn't be smoothed out. "An' I don't bloody know- what the tippin' point is, what's enough to drive her back to me. To bring her home. An' what scares me- really scares me, Slayer, is that I don't know if I'll ever _find_ that point."

"If anyone should- it's you." Buffy whispered comfortingly. "But shoulds- all the shoulds and shouldn'ts around here, Spike... they don't do their jobs." She ran a fingertip gently down his hard cheekbone, his face holding rigid in the moonlight in an effort not too look so grieved.

"Don't I know." He snorted. "Been a long time. For both of us."

"They say time makes it better. Is it getting better for you? 'Cause I'm not getting that." Buffy exclaimed with a puzzled expression, shaking her head.

Spike paused. "I think that it gets easier not to think of her. But when I do, it still pain just isn't as often."

Buffy looked at him in empathetic relief. "That is exactly how I feel! He isn't in my mind all the time. but he's always somewhere in my heart, and if I'm not careful- boom, I think of him and the pain is back, fresh as ever."

"Love's a bitch." He muttered, nodding.

"Amen to that." She looked at him cautiously. "Does it ever- hurt less lately?"

He gave her a knowing smirk. "Around you? Yeah, it lessens a bit."

"Ditto."

"Now, _that's_ a bloody stupid word."

"Not stupider than all that 'sack of hammers' stuff."

"I don't think stupider is even a word, Pet."

"Neither is barmy, but you throw it all over the place."

"Oh, for the love of- will you please pipe down?"

"That's like the pot calling the kettle loud."

"I'm beggin' you. Stop talkin' unless you can say somethin' that makes a bit of sense."

"Good night, Spike. Sensible enough for you?" Buffy snuggled under his arm and pointedly closed her eyes.

He smiled and tugged her messy golden ponytail once." All right. Good night, Slayer. Buffy."

"Sweet William. Sweet Spike." She murmured. He smiled down on her, stroked the hair he'd just tugged, and they began their journey into slumber.

* * *

><p>Willow eased into the room in case Buffy was still asleep. The power was still out across campus- her bad- and she knew their alarm clock radio wouldn't have woken her up. Plus- who knows how much energy it uses to take on an entire government monster lab? They had so much to talk about, perspectives from last night to compare. Willow softly shut the door and turned to the the room's interior to see if Buffy was zonked out.<p>

_She must be whole new levels of tired._ Willow bit down a shriek of surprise._ Because that's the only reason I can think of why she and Spike would be curled up in bed together._

_Okay... don't panic. She's not hurt. I can hear breathing. She's- she's snuggled up with him. Geez! Spike and Buffy, snuggling? Wait. They're both dressed. Minus shoes. So this wasn't a sex thing? Or was it _all_ about the sex thing? Maybe they'd been through more in the fraternity than either of them let on, maybe- oh God, maybe there had been more psychological torment than they'd shared, and now they were comforting one another. Maybe going to Riley yesterday, and going to the labs where they'd both suffered had triggered something- and it was all her fault._

Willow crept closer in the room, trying to see the figures on the bed that were only lit by whatever daylight managed to filter though the blinds. _He's holding her. Wow. And no fang marks in the neck as far as I can see. Oh, she's got puffy eyes. She was crying. And he's holding her. This is so weird- but kinda sweet..._Willow leaned farther over to see the reclining figures better and-

promptly stepped on the brown paper bag which crackled loudly in the stillness.

Buffy's eyes flew open, and Spike sat up with a start. "Willow!" Buffy yelped.

"Sorry!" Willow cried and rocked back.

"Bleedin' hell, Red." Spike glared- and then realized this might not be the best time to get shirty. He wasn't exactly in an easily explained position.

"This isn't -uh- this looks weird, huh?" Buffy blushed guiltily. She scrambled over Spike's legs and stood up. "I bet you're wondering why Spike's here. In my bed. Where i was also. At the same time."

"Very smooth." Spike grumbled, deciding to go ahead and be as shirty as he wanted. When you're in a scrape, better to play to your strengths. "Stop bumblin' about, Slayer. We just ended up fallin' asleep here." _Which doesn't explain why I was here in the first place..._

"When did you get here?" Willow quirked her eyebrows.

"Slayer left her soda in my car. I brought it up." He improvised.

"Yeah- see- I got a bottle when I went with him to get blood and cigarettes, a thank you for going on the search and rescue mission last night." Buffy tagged on.

"Bloody pointless mission, apparently." Spike stared angrily at the redhead, who blushed but didn't look away.

"So, you came up here to drop off a bottle of soda...and fell asleep?" Willow crossed her arms and looked suspiciously at the pair of them.

"We had some stuff to talk about. Talk over." Buffy stopped Spike from saying something terminally stupid. "So we sat and talked. Until we got sleepy." A_nd that totally doesn't explain why he didn't go home, or why he didn't take the floor, or why we slept in one bed when there are two, or why I'm not wearing a bra under these pajamas if I had guy company that wasn't "guy company"_. "Really, _really_ sleepy?" She offered timidly.

"An' I- I jus' dozed off. I better get goin'." Spike hastily reached for his boots.

"Yeah. I have to get ready for class." Buffy ignored his searching figure and spoke to Willow.

"No, you don't. Power's still out in most of the campus buildings. They cancelled classes until power comes back on." Willow smiled nervously. "It's sorta hard to find the cause of the power outage when it was actually done by a hacker pulling all override codes for a grid shut down."

"Oh." Buffy blinked, then grinned broadly. "Go you."

"Oz was at stake. I went nuts." She shrugged modestly.

"Hrmmph!" Spike snorted. Buffy kicked the back of his leg as he did up his boots.

"Did you tell him?" Willow mouthed, eyes wide, cheeks flaming.

"No!" Buffy hissed. "But he knows Oz left."

"Super hearing." Spike muttered, rising. "Yeah. I heard about Wolfy goin' back to parts unknown." He sniffed deeply and tilted his head, slow, evil smile crossing his face. "How'd you and the Earth Mother do?"

"Spike!" This time Buffy punched him, hard, in the gut.

"I-I'm gonna go." Willow backed away, hurt on her face.

"I'm gonna kill him." Buffy replied.

"Wait. Wait." Spike rubbed his abdomen and unbent from his doubled up position. "Red- not disrespectin' the way you swing. An' that pretty little witch suits you." He looked up at her with his eyes only, head still on a downward slant.

"You don't know anything about it. You don't know what it's like to wait and hurt for months, and finally feel happy! It was the hardest thing I ever did! Getting left- and then letting him leave again."

"Will, you don't have to-" Buffy reached out placating hands, only to find them brushed away by Spike.

"So the little girl's all grown up, is she? Thinks she knows the pain?" Spike went chest to chest with the witch, only remaining non-violent by clenching his fingers so hard into his palms that he was about to break the skin. "Wait until they don't offer you that second chance, Red. Wait until you never get to choose. _Then_ we'll talk." Willow's face contorted in fear and grief, and her mouth moved silently.

"William." Buffy's voice was glacial. She was reaching her hands out to him now. Willow looked shocked, but Spike didn't move away from her, or towards Buffy, even though she had brought her hand to rest on his shoulder.

"But I don't wish that on you. I don't wish that on anyone." He growled in a bruising, pained voice, spun on his heel and stalked away, finding himself blocked after three steps.

"Spike- don't." Buffy couldn't let him storm off- even if he was being a colossal jerk. _Great. Now I have new groups of friends to be torn between. Swell. I just love a party._

"I apologized as much as I'm gonna and I don't fancy waitin' around for a lecture on how bad an' rude I am. I know already."

"Please don't _leave._ Yet." Buffy met his blue eyes with a warning, a reminder in her own. Spike looked intensely frustrated, and a silent war seemed to be happening between them as they stood in front of the dorm room door. Willow's gasping realization tore them from their battle.

"You two _did_ bond. Like- crazy glue bond." Willow looked mildly horrified. But there was no other way to look at it. This was like watching a really bad episode of _The Twilight Zone_, where enemies had become best buddies in a matter of hours. The way they touched, the way they talked- it was snippy, but it wasn't- hateful- anymore. And calling him William? Holy unexpected intimacy, Batman!

"We're just not done talking." Buffy said quickly.

"I'm not judging. Go bond." She paused. "When you need something, sometimes it doesn't make sense, but it's okay! Be all about the bondage." _Of all the bad terms in the world..._ Willow and Buffy blushed beet red and Spike laughed out loud. "You know what I mean. Buffy, you told me. You said 'Love isn't always nice and neat. Not always rational.' So, if-"

"Not love!" Buffy yelped. "I'm not in love with _Spike!_" She looked as though vomiting were likely at the mere thought.

"Cut your tongue out for slander!" Spike gasped, highly offended.

"I meant- not you two! Not in love! I meant, I'm trying to explain- Tara and me- we had this thing, and- and it turned into love. I know you guys went through a lot, going to the Initiative headquarters, and it probably brought up a lot of bad memories for you guys. Lowell House being the Initiative bunks, and- and asking for help from Riley. Not to mention it being a very not vampire friendly place. I didn't think about it last night 'cause I was so scared for Oz. Then I see you two together, and you're acting all supportive and cuddly?"

"Not cuddly! Vampires do not cuddle."

"I rolled in my sleep!" Buffy protested.

"If you two are bonding over - what happened that night," Willow looked uncomfortably at the floor, "you know- being together right now, not wanting to talk over stuff with anyone but a fellow vic-I mean, fellow survivor-it's cool. Buffy, you told me love hurts. It does. I'm sorry, guys. I guess I didn't realize how much it hurts other people, the bystanders."

"Oh,Will! It's okay!" Buffy hugged her best friend.

"I'm sorry to put you through this. Thanks for standing by me." Willow snuffled on Buffy's shoulder.

"You always stand by me, of course I'll be there for you!"

"Oh for fuck's sake..." Spike groaned and looked heavenwards.

"I know you're a big jerk and you tried to kill me a couple times. Saving Oz makes you clean in my book." Willow looked up at him with steady eyes- that almost immediately flickered under his leer. "Well- mostly clean."

"Oh, joy. I can dust happily now." Spike lit up a cigarette in his agitation.

Buffy pulled back from Willow's arms and glared at him. "You wanna do that dusting thing now?"

"Down, Slayer." He puffed in her direction.

"Shut _up_, Spike." Buffy insisted.

"You two- wow." Willow watched the interplay with rapidly growing suspicions.

"Wow?" Both of them looked at her with worry in their eyes.

"You can stop freaking." Willow laughed. "I don't care if you hang out. I don't care if you decide to- hang out a _lot_." She resolutely looked the other way, and headed to the dresser to retrieve some magical supplies she wanted to take back to Tara's.

"We're not exactly hanging out." Buffy lied uncomfortably.

"Business." Spike lied with more credibility.

"Whatever. I just chose a lesbian witch over a heterosexual werewolf- which makes me look kinda like a bi-mystical, equal opportunity kinda gal. Plus, I just hacked into a city owned utility to stop a military owned mission. I'm not in the mood to question anybody's choices or who someone wants to- spend time with." _That, and I can totally see the elemental Fire and Water thing happening. Spike's eyes- they're like storms. And water- hurricanes, tsunamis, tidal waves, oceans unleashing cold, dark fury - totally fits with his non- thinking, destroying everything motif. But I can't imagine anything else putting out the wildfire that is Buffy when she's angry. Whatever they are- they seem to be doing each other some good. She hasn't looked as well-rested in three years as she has in the last two weeks..._

Exchanging glances, Spike and buffy telegraphed their silent uncertainty of what to say after Willow's statement. They were spared the decision by Willow turning to them brightly. "Are you two friends now?" She smiled broadly.

"Possibly." Spike looked twitchy.

"Sort of." Buffy conceded.

"That's okay." Willow hooked her fingers with Buffy's in a gesture of support. "Okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Buffy nodded and let out a sigh. "So- you? Everything's cool?" She raised her eyebrows in inquiry.

Willow blushed and nodded. Spike inhaled and winked at her, but it wasn't a mean gesture this time. "You and the soft blondie are all better." He stated. Willow nodded, this time a little more sheepishly. Buffy bit her lip and gave a crooked hint of a smile.

"Did you say classes are cancelled?" Buffy broke the bashful silence before Spike could, probably by asking something highly inappropriate.

"Yeah, until further notice. If you want breakfast- well, brunch now, you're gonna have to go off campus. I was going to head over to- well, Tara and I- we were-" Willow derailed. How could the words "spending the day together" suddenly sound like a romantic, sex-filled romp that would be totally wrong to say out loud?

"Tell Tara I said hi." Buffy giggled.

"Thanks, Buffy." Willow smiled, gave Spike a modified grin, and left with her bag full of magical supplies. "Oh- obviously I haven't told anyone about Tara yet."

"Secret's safe with me. Us. Right, Spike?" She said in a voice that meant agreement was guaranteed and disagreement would by physically painful.

"As you say." He agreed, taking a step away from the pint sized punch-thrower.

"Yeah. Well, anything about people's choices should be theirs to talk about." Willow said significantly. "I'm gonna go. See you for dinner?"

"Sounds good. Bye, Will." Buffy locked the door after her, and then leaned against the door with wide eyes and let out a tense sigh. "Okay. That didn't go- horribly."

"She's not half bad." Spike agreed grudgingly.

"Do you think she knows more than what she said?"

"About us doin' bondin' of the physical union kind? Yeah, Pet. She knows we're closer than close, but she won't tell. She thinks we're reachin' for post-traumatic stress shaggin' or at the very least, what you'd call 'cuddlin''."

"She doesn't get it."

"No. She doesn't. We can survive the physical tortures, we're built for it." He paused, hands on his jacket, holding it, not yet putting it on. "It's the heart pain that'll do us in."

"She thinks I'm hung up on Riley. I mean, I kinda hate his guts right now, but my heart isn't full of deep, grievey, longing. Not for him anyway."

"Still, she tried to see past her own issues- eventually. Must come with bein' a good guy. Or a 'friend'." He rolled his eyes.

"Don't get too high and mighty. You were pretty nice for an evil monster."

"Monster's such an ill-defined term." He smirked.

"Riley's leaning more towards monster than you, right now."

"Bastard."

"Ditto."

"Oh. God! That stupid, stupid airhead language." Spike clenched his hands and thumped his head back against the wall.

"You were gonna give me a vocabulary lesson." She hinted.

Spike slowly let his coat drop back over Buffy's desk chair. "It is kinda a fry-able time for me to be headin' out to the car."

"Very sunny." Buffy pouted slightly, pushing her lower lip forward, because she knew he liked it.

"You didn't even look out the window." Spike teased.

"I could pull the blinds and check..." Buffy taunted maliciously, stepping to the shade.

"Don't you dare!" Spike sprang over to her and caught her hand. "Time for lessons- but vocab isn't on today's course list."

"You know- classes are cancelled on this campus. And technically _we're_ on this campus." Buffy said suggestively, surprising herself.

"Are you flirtin', Slayer? Are you seducin' me?" Spike asked in shock.

"I don't know. Am I? Do we do that?" Buffy looked worriedly at him, her petite features pinched up in uncertainty.

Spike considered for all of a split second. "Yeah, Luv. We can do that. We can do anything we want when we're alone."

A tight feeling swarmed in the pit of her stomach._ I actually want to be alone with him. I have a day off and I can't think of anything I'd like to do more than spend time with him. Because when he's with me- everything bad is still around, but the pain drops away. He makes it better. I want to make it better for him, too._ "I love being alone with you." Buffy murmured softly, but steadily, as if she'd planned to say it for days, just hadn't found the right time.

It wasn't love. But it was close enough to give him that warm, sweet tingle he thought only Dru could give him. That he'd started to feel when they slowed down, when they "made love", as best they could, with bodies overruling hearts. "Imagine that." He purred, cupping her cheek, watching the self-doubt take hold of her eyes. He brought his lips down close to hers. "I love bein' alone with you, too."

* * *

><p>Willow walked across the partially sunny campus, looking up to the milky, cloud covered sky where daylight was trying to fight though. What a glorious day. A day spent alone with the woman you love. She closed her eyes and sighed happily, quickening her pace to leave Stevenson Hall and head to Tara's dorm, to Tara's waiting arms.<p>

"Willow." The voice made her eyes pop open and widen. It was familiar, but wrong.

"Riley!" Willow's first reaction was to gape at him, his stiffly wired jaw, metal glinting from his mouth, one side of his face swathed in medical tape and splinting. Her second reaction was more internalized. _Whoa, Buffy! Bringin' the smackdown. He wouldn't help save Oz. He earned it. If I weren't trying to honor my wiccan pledges and use magic for good, I'd love to give that face a more symmetrical look._

"Where is she?" He demanded in a voice that sounded like bad ventriloquism, talking through a mouth that was supposed to be immobile.

"Buffy's in her room, a-and you'd better not bother her now." Willow said firmly, drawing herself up to her full height.

"Don't think she can avoid me. Avoid us. Massive hostile escape last night, including your lover boy. Lover _monster._" Riley blocked Willow as she tried to sidestep him on the wide sidewalks which were eerily uncrowded now that classes weren't in session. "I know she did something to get in there. People could have died in her little gate-crashing event, Willow. She released unchipped demons. Dozens of guys got hurt, equipment was destroyed! I am not putting up with that little anarchist anymore."

"Hey! She saved a person, and she didn't seriously hurt anyone but demons. Okay- maybe she did give a couple of humans a headache. Humans who tortured and captured an innocent college student!" Willow blinked back sudden angry tears at the thought of Oz's pale skin covered in dark blue and purple bruises and angry red stings. "You leave her alone, she was on a mercy mission."

"The 'innocent college student' turned into a werewolf and was chasing a woman through an unused lecture hall, trying to kill her. We saved a girl's life. _That's_ a mercy mission. Buffy was breaking and entering. And speaking of mercy, _I'm_ not gonna be so merciful when I get hold of her and her new boyfriend."

Willow took two hasty steps back. "Are you concussed?"

"Why? Because I can see her for what she is? A slayer who likes to play with her kill. Oh, that's right, I know she has a new pet vampire. She's been seeing Spike."

Willow covered her shock with a look of annoyance and some very rapid mental calculations while she bluffed. "What, like I didn't know that?" _Okay, so I just found out that they spent the night together, but it was innocent. Mostly. I think. Oh, ick, bad thought, bad thought! He must have assumed... he probably still thinks Buffy wanted Spike in that cosmic bedroom tragedy at Lowell house. Or maybe he heard about Buffy and "Hostile Seventeen" engineering the breakout together, with Xander, but he knows Xander has Anya... Oh, who knows that this idiot thinks? I'm just driving myself crazy trying to keep up with this stupidity._

Riley looked shocked- at least from the nose up, the jaw didn't flex at all. "You know?"

"Uh-huh, that's right! I mean, I know they're spending time together. 'C-cause she can be with whoever she wants! A-and he's treated us a lot better than you have lately." She finished defensively.

"You're okay with that?" Riley muttered angrily, wishing he could scream the question for the whole world to hear. How were people in this little Scooby pack okay with dating monsters and demons?

"It's her business." Willow crossed her arms.

"She's been making it my business." Riley lightly rubbed his jaw.

"I don't know what you said, Riley, but I'm willing to bet it was something really bad to get her mad enough to hit a human." Willow challenged.

"No, it's not like that!" He leaned forward. "She's becoming like what she hunts. It's because she's turning into one of them, slowly." Willow looked utterly sickened, but Riley insistently continued. "You know she wasn't pure human to begin with, but now she's turning into a demon, or maybe a vampire! He's giving it to her, the demon side, transmitting it to her. He started that night. Or maybe it started with that first vampire. Maybe that's what's wrong with her, maybe he started the transformation, and she needs Spike, she craves it, to complete her change."

"Are you insane? I thought you studied this stuff down there in the Initiative Zone." Willow cried in exasperation. "You can't make vampires out of living people,not without making them dead people! Buffy is very alive, and you need blood- not other bodily fluids. Buffy's all human, she's just powerful, she's blessed with something you can't have, that you don't understand and it makes you crazy!"

"Fine, let's say that's true, about her being a human. The new ways to become a vampire part hasn't been tested by us. But we'll test. As soon as I get him away from her we'll find out exactly what's in him and how it works." He glowered.

"You're sick." Willow gasped.

Riley grabbed her arm, fingers gripping her tighter than he'd ever grabbed a woman in his life. He'd never condone hurting an innocent woman, and that's when he should have realized something had snapped inside him. She wasn't a woman anymore, not to him. "No, what's sick is choosing monsters above other humans!"

"Get your hands off of me!" Willow struggled and tugged, but Riley jerked his hand from her arm, seemingly on his own, with a sharp gasp. He shook his hand out as if he'd been stung or burned.

Stunned, Riley turned in the direction Willow had been walking, and Willow peered over his shoulder, a wide smile seeping onto her face.

Tara was standing a few yards away from them, coming from her dorm. She wore a worried expression on her face and was slowly lowering her hand. "St-stay away from my g-girlfriend." Tara, not the best at confrontations, forced out.

"It's fine, I'm okay. Riley was just leaving." She subverted him with a frown and a pointed glare. "You'd _better_ be leaving this area. Stay away from Buffy, too."

"I need to talk to her." Riley followed her with his eyes only. "Something's happening to her."

"Something is happening to _you_!" Willow shook her head. "Stay away from her, Riley. Believe me. You don't want to bother them right now." She let the word "them" fall just a little more heavily than the rest. Riley's eyes widened, and Willow winced. She hoped playing the Spike and Buffy romance card was an acceptable bluff in this situation. The situation of trying to prevent Buffy and Spike from getting burst in on by a vengeful, musclebound jerk who wouldn't be able to lay a finger on Buffy, but would probably dust Spike, her much needed comforter, in a matter of seconds. Riley believed what he wanted to believe, anyway. If it stalled him... "Think about it. Do you want cosmetic surgery or not? Do you think she's in a better mood, or a worse mood, than she was yesterday, after you refused to help us and made her spend half the night in a yucky battle?"

Riley grunted something unintelligible and turned away, walking across the lawns, back to the frat, where he would have to sit and wait idly, unable to help contain the crisis in the lab, or round up the escaped hostiles, until the doctors pronounced him fit for duty.

* * *

><p>Tara rushed forward and caught Willow as soon as Riley was out of sight. "Wow. Look at you. Tough chick."<p>

"You too. With the zapping." Willow clutched Tara and grinned weakly. "And the 'stay away from my girlfriend' line."

"Yeah- I shouldn't have said that." Tara bowed her head to touch Willow's cheek with a little embarrassed flush on her own fair face.

"Oh, but I liked it. Warm and tummy tingly."

"I- I know you could have handled him. I was just worried that- when you didn't come meet me at the dorm after breakfast, I wondered if- if everything was okay."_If Oz was back. If I dreamed it. If Buffy had started to give her a hard time, or if Willow was feeling different in the light of day._ "So I thought I'd meet you halfway."

"Everything was fine. I just had to talk to Buffy, and then Captain Poophead got in my way."

"So- you're not mad that I said it? Girl-girlfriend?"

"No." Willow's voice was clear and ringing. "It's _our_ secret to tell." She thought of Buffy's hands reaching for Spike, her voice freezing him with one sharp cry of "William", and their bodies lying side by side on her bed, the picture of battle weary partners huddling together to ease the pain. "Just as long as people don't go around blabbing other people's secrets- everything should be fine." She squeezed Tara's hand in her own. "Better than fine."

_To be continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Realizations abound. Jumps around, and sometimes might be hard to follow. just remember, we're dealing with what's going on in the heads of people at crossroads in their lives._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, two toe, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, silverm00nangel, DLillith21, lalabuff, Starscape91 lil-leti, Iambean, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part IX

Mid-morning, early afternoon sex. Lots of it. After lots of it last night. But this was different. This was very relaxed, light of day, chilling, nothing else to do sex. This should have been what she and Angel got to experience. They were the ones who should have spent long, lazy hours exploring and loving- with actual love! Even she and Riley never got to do this- patrol, class, and more patrol got in the way of that. So it was her and Spike- having someone else's life. Maybe it was his old life, his and Drusilla's. Probably every day was like this for them- they couldn't go outside, they had days, hell, they had decades to love each other and experience what she was only experiencing for the first time ever. She wondered if it was Drusilla Spike was thinking of now. And she wondered why she didn't mind too much, but yet was really starting to want his thoughts during sex to be about her.

Buffy swallowed hard, watching him move on top of her, in silence, in her bed. _This is just sex. Just physical. We're just doing this, as friends, but there's nothing more than that. It doesn't matter who we think about, not like we're all with the deep emotional caring._

Then he moved so tenderly to roll them to the side. She held his shoulders and his large hands held her waist and their eyes closed together. She wondered if he was picturing Dru, thinking of her. She had tried to pretend she was with Angel, even though she knew it wouldn't come now. She knew how Spike's body felt, knew exactly who was touching her, who was inside her. She wondered if he could feel that it was her, but she knew, after over a century with one woman, no matter who he was with, Drusilla would be the only one he ever thought about when -

"Oh, Buffy." A panted breath and that illusion was shattered. He was thinking of _her._ She should feel flattered, she supposed.

"Mm, Spike..." She rolled her head back and away, and just as quickly found her head cradled in his strong hand, rolling it back to face him. His dark blue eyes were searing into her hazel green ones. "Hi?" She giggled out.

"Just like lookin at you, seein' you." He gazed down at her with something very like affection.

"I thought you'd be thinking of her." Buffy whispered, lightly stroking his jaw with one fingertip. "Drusilla."

"No. Not anymore. Can't. You feel so different. You feel- better. Hotter, wetter, tighter- you taste better. I still prefer her, but I know when I've got the goods." He kissed her lips once and looked down on her quizzically. "Do you call my name, but wanna say his?"

"No. I mean- I wish there was a reason to be saying his name. But I know who I'm with, too. Spike." She rolled the name off her tongue with a flip and flourish against his jaw.

"Sweet Slayer." He purred, and resumed.

* * *

><p>"You know what we're gonna have to do tonight, don't you?" Buffy sighed dramatically, tracing meaningless patterns on Spike's back as he lay face down beside her. Both of them were exhausted after another hour or so of languorous touching, dozing, and general sexual marathoning.<p>

"I'm gonna need more blood if we keep this up. Well- if you want _me_ up. Blood's what keeps me any sort of warm an' any sort of hard an' thrustin'." Spike laughed deeply, head still smushed into the pillows. "Ooh, right there, Slayer, higher on the left." He wriggled his shoulder under her nail and she scratched obligingly. Strange little intimacies we're having, he thought. _Shoulder scratches, sleeping naked in her bed with the windows open and warm sunlight hitting the blinds, but not yours truly, plus that little thing she said on the last go round. She's never said that before, not that I didn't love it._

He could hear her voice in his mind, frantic, but soft. _Cum in me. I want to feel you letting go inside me._ Well, that was guaranteed to bring a swift conclusion to the proceedings. He always finished inside her, never wanted to leave that soft, hot pleasure zone, but knowing she _wanted_ it? Bloody hell, she knew what to say to bring a bloke off.

"Spike!" Buffy rolled her eyes in exasperation at the way he immediately assumed she meant sex- not that he didn't have good reason to. "Gutter boy." She dug her nails in harder, leaving gouges, which made her heart give a sudden guilty thump. She leaned over and kissed the reddened skin in apology- and found her own guilt absolved immediately.

"Ahh, Baby, hard like that, make me so happy, yes you do." He groaned and rolled his pearly shoulder into her touch.

"Focus." She removed her hand.

"Okay, okay, slave driver. Yes, tonight. Well, we've hit the standard five or six positions," he rolled to face her, "so I guess it's time to test our flexibility. Here, gimme your ankle, we'll see how far you can-"

"Not that!" Buffy slapped at his hand as it trailed down her smooth thigh, heading to her knee. "I meant, we're going to have to go do some digging, see how many demons and vamps that got out last night are making trouble, how many unchipped ones got away."

"Oh, they'll be layin' low. Or booked it away from this place. I know I would've done. Except for the fact that- ha-" he laughed bitterly, "you can't bloody well feed once the army wankers have got hold of you, and after a couple days you can't bloody well even stand up."

Buffy felt a sudden surge of sympathy for him- well, more for Oz, but some for him, the odd friend she'd now made, not the creature who'd been caught months ago. She covered it quickly. "Good thing we were here to save the poor toothless puppy." Buffy preened with false braggadocio. "Oh, yeah, score one for the Slayerettes."

"I'll bite you in a minute. Be worth the headache." Spike snorted in irritation.

"Aaaand we're back to the chip." She nudged his shoulder. "We still have to check the area. And we need to do some recon on Adam. And then Willow and Tara- I don't know what they're going to say, but the Oz absence is totally obvious, and-"

"-and just how am I somehow included in all this tosh an' bother?" Spike interrupted her huffily.

"Oh. Well- I guess you don't- have to be." Buffy said slowly. _Mega weird. It was like in my head, I was just automatically including him. Ha. That's so sick it's almost funny._

"Good, 'cause I've been on the bloody Scooby support network for two nights in a row. Too much more goody-goody-ness is gonna result in some sorta personality disorder."

"You already have one. The absence of said personality." She chirped sarcastically.

"Could be 'cause I'm not strictly a 'person'. I've got a 'demonality'." He smirked snidely.

"I think I liked it better when you were all half-asleep and mumbly." Buffy pouted at him.

"_I_ wasn't the one who started plannin' the night's events an' wakin' me up." He rolled another quarter turn, onto his back now, leaving his arm open and she automatically bedded down against him. If Spike's breath wasn't absent, it would have come out in a choked gasp. _Sod it... look at this. It's a fuckin' reflex. She's nearby- I bring her closer. Oh, that's gonna look real nice if I forget an' do it at the Scooby meeting. I'll end up with a broken arm and Rupert's crossbow in my chest._

Buffy nuzzled her head onto his shoulder and made a little strangled noise. _Oh. My. God. It's automatic! It's like- body autopilot-ness! He opens his arm, I cuddle up to him. Why do I do these things?_

"Yeah. Erm." Buffy cleared her throat awkwardly in the silence that held for a few seconds. "Well, I just thought I'd ask you. You don't have to come."

"I didn't say I _wasn't_ comin'. I just asked if I _had_ to." Spike backtracked slightly. "God knows I love to annoy Rupes. An' Droopy Boy. He's been more decent since he saw the other side of Captain America, but he still hates me. Always fun to pull his chain."

"Hey! There will be no chains and no pulling. He hates you since you tried to kill him. And me. And- well- everyone I can think of. Multiple times. " _So why am I massaging his chest as I lecture him about his previous friend-icidal tendencies?_

"Oh, well. It's what I do." He shrugged. "Did."

"The past tense is very important here." Buffy laughed softly, resignedly. "You know we're really screwed up for hanging out together, right?"

"B'lieve me, I know." Spike groaned, but hugged her up to himself, shoring her to his side more tightly, basking in her heat.

"Why do we do this?" Buffy moaned, rhetorically, of course. Reasoning wasn't going to be easy, and hey- nothing in her life made sense anyway. Might as well enjoy the part that wasn't killing her. _Currently_ wasn't killing her. The past and future were up for grabs.

"I dunno. I think it might be 'cause of this..." Spike moved his hand slowly, softly down her torso, to her thighs, which automatically parted to receive his gentle, searching fingers. " 'Cause no one else gets to touch this little paradise- that's right, you lift those hips, Luv, I'm gonna make you feel so good."

"How can someone so bad make you feel so wonderful?" Buffy gasped, and arched, not out of obedience but because she simply couldn't help herself.

Spike paused, circling her nub, unable to answer for a second. "I'm not so bad in here." He finally struggled to say. And he wasn't. He wasn't leashed. He simply preferred the benefits of less bad behavior in the Slayer's company.

Buffy blinked before her eyes fluttered closed in pleasure. "Yes, you are." She argued breathlessly. She forced her eyes open to look into his and couldn't believe how much she- well, it wasn't love, but how much she wanted to- to _feel_ with him and _be_ with him, to hold him close and... Again, it wasn't love, but she wanted to give him so much, and the desire came upon her so suddenly, like some stupid dam had burst when she was with him, hearing him struggle to say he wasn't bad. Yet that was the very thing he always clung to even when he couldn't act on those impulses anymore.

"You're very, very bad." She kissed him hungrily, once, sucking his finely shaped lips into her pouting mouth for a second before releasing them. "In here- that's very, very good."

"Be careful what you say." Spike warned her hoarsely, falling into those damnably lovely brown flecked-green eyes, with their youth and their wisdom, their pain and their naivety all bound together. "You don't want to-"

"I want to be a good friend. I want the hurt to stop for you and me both." Her hand was snaking up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his ungelled, soft hair at the nape.

"You don't want me to be bad." He growled, and he rolled on top of her urgently, desperately.

"No. I just don't want you to lie to me, either. Not right now. If it's real- shouldn't it be the truth?"

Smart girl, wise girl, stupid girl, playing with fire, gonna get them both burned. "What do you want?" He hissed. "I say I'm good, you tell me I'm bad, you tell me you want the truth and it's all a lie, what we pretend."

"Spike. I stopped pretending a couple days ago. At least about who I'm with and what kind of a guy he is. I know who I'm with. He's a good lover, and a bad vampire. He's got bad thoughts that do good things."

If Spike had breath, it would have escaped in a heady rush. "I sound very confusin'." He panted out, eyes heavily half lidded and slowly burning into hers.

"This whole thing is very simple and very complicated. Very confusing." Buffy agreed. "No strings attached, but-" She swallowed.

"But there's starting to be attachment." He cocked one brow higher.

They stared at each other unmoving, nervously, wondering who would deny it first, refute it, make caveats to the statement.

It was him. But he didn't do any of the things they'd imagined. " Makes sense. We're the best option left." He cupped her sides, lifting her hard, suddenly, up into him, arm slipping under her back, his prone crouch almost predatory. "Is that what you want, Slayer, to get closer? Have this bad man bound up with you, in you?" His tone was deliberately dangerous.

"No." Buffy whispered. She didn't. She didn't ever want to get close to a new man, ever, ever again. Spike began to let her hips fall back to the bed, but she shook her head frantically. "Don't want it, but I don't think I can help it."

"We had no choice before. We got a choice now, Slayer." He reminded her sharply.

"I know. I don't love you, I'm not saying that."

"I know. Been over this, over an' bloody over."

"But if you don't make love to me, I'm going to go insane." She whimpered.

"Oh, thank God, me too." Spike pinned her roughly, feeling her hands dig into his own, a beautiful gesture, he thought, when her nails encouraged his animalistic thrusts inside her.

He devoured her, and she devoured him, like they never had before, knowing exactly what they were doing, knowing it was a dangerously fine line they'd begun to walk. Friendship, attachment, all of it starting to get muddled with passion and who knew what the hell would come out.

Blood came out. From nips and scratches and desperate, pleading grasping hands. Tears came out, hidden under sweat, from pleasure and relief and having this strange burning feeling inside that they hadn't felt before, some sort of half-love maybe, but neither would ever think of it like that.

Words came out.

"I'll come with you tonight to your bloody meeting and patrol, if you come with me after."

"I promise. Teach me that ankle thing?"

"Teach you everything. Make you mine."

The world slid off its axis for a minute, words halting, bodies continued in a frantic frenzy, and then back slid back on. "Okay." She replied.

"I didn't mean-"

"Shh. Spike. I know what you mean."

"I don't want to own you. I never want that. I can't stand you." Spike snarled into the valley between her cleavage, lips kneading the skin over her heart.

"You'd never own me. Doesn't mean I can't be yours. Your friend. Your- that word we don't say."

"Say it." He challenged.

"No, it's not the right word." Buffy clenched around him.

"Say it for me." He insisted. Butting heads was always a pleasure- and he really wanted her to say it, cave to his devilish charms.

"Say it first."

"Can't I ever win, Slayer?"

"You're the bad guy. I'm the hero. I always win. Heavy on the irony."

Blast her. Wring her petite little neck- as soon as he was done nibbling on it. "Lover."

"Lover." She repeated. Then exclaimed, "We just got to be friends! What're we saying? We're rushing."

"We're not going anywhere, how the bloody fuck can we rush?" Spike demanded, rolling her on top of him, hands still wrapped together.

"Good point." She conceded.

"Say it, Slayer."

"Lover."

"No, no, no. I want an entire, complete sentence."

"You're not my English teacher."

"Actually- lately I have been." He winked up with a harsh single laugh. They locked eyes in a battle of wills, before his softened slightly, watching her worry her inner cheek in a way that had nothing to do with pleasure. "Are you scared of what happens next?"

"Wouldn't you be- with our histories?"

"But there is no next. This is as good as it gets, sorry, Pet. There's only one more stop on the line, and your ticket doesn't go that far."

"And you complain about _my_ metaphors." Buffy laughed nervously.

"Try this again." Spike slid both hands slowly, sensuously up her torso, wrapping softly around her shoulders, fingers grazing her throat, one thumb finding her pulse point and stroking it steadily.

She gasped at the touch- bad and good all at once, a place that was dangerous, especially when vampires were involved, that somehow boiled into life when he dared to breach it. Just like him. Pushing every envelope. She gulped as he drew her lower to him, locking eyes again, burrowing in high and deep.

"Lovers?" He whispered.

"Lovers." She sighed resignedly.

"Don't sound so miserable."

"I'm not miserable! Just- wigged."

"Don't be, Slayer. It's just a word." He pointed out.

"I thought you wanted to be honest in here."

"I am bein' honest. It's just a word unless there's meaning behind it."

"Spike..." Breathless warning. That there would be meaning, some kind of meaning if they kept playing like this.

Spike paused and rolled again, back on top, lips low and brushing hers. "You wanna tell me some sweet little lies, Slayer?"

"No." Buffy decided suddenly, looking up at him, that ever impassioned face and stormy eyes. "Truth's a good guy staple." She kissed him hard, bitingly, working her way up to his ear with a wantoness she hadn't thought herself capable of achieving. "Doesn't it freak you out?" She breathed.

"Lots of things 'round here don't add up, what's one more?" He grazed his blunted teeth across her smooth, soft cheek.

"It's a pretty big miscalculation when you and I become lovers."

He smiled, hidden against her skin. _Ha. Got her to say it._ "Sounds good when you say it though." He nipped her earlobe.

"Sounds good when you like to hear it." she countered again, "and now you seriously owe me."

"What do you want to be paid in, Luv?" Spike hissed, plowing into her.

"You're smart-sorta- in an evil kinda way. You figure it out."

Rocking into her hard enough to bruise any normal human, he started speaking, low and husky, rasping out everything she could want to hear. Bad things, beautiful things. He never said the one thing he found himself wanting to say in the heat of the moment. But he came close.

"My lover is mine and I am hers." _Song of Solomon. The Bible, quoted by a demon, to the embodiment of good. I'm crackin' up._ But she gasped up at him, something shining her eyes that was worth all the insanity.

"Thank you. My lover is mine and I am his."

And they exploded together, screaming in the silence of a locked room, filled with the obscured light of warm May sunshine.

When you say something beautiful like that, Buffy thought as they held each other after, something happens. Stuff matters. But no one had to mention it.

* * *

><p>"We're going to have to tell them. I have to explain the Oz thing- and you're part of that thing." Willow braided Tara's hair with a worried hint of a frown on her face. "So you're coming, right?"<p>

"D-do you want me to sit out this Scooby meeting? Would that b-be easier for you?" Tara tried to turn and face her lover and yelped as she unthinkingly yanked the braid from Willow's hands.

"Hold still, I'm relatively new at braiding someone else's hair." Willow chided. "Of course I want you to come with me! You're a Scooby! You have to be there for wacky planning sessions and impossible battle scenarios. Besides-" she leaned forward and kissed Tara's pale shoulder. "when I said 'we're going to have to tell them', you're the second part of the 'we'."

"Oh. Okay." Tara looked nervous and pleased by turns.

"It'll be fine. I hope."

"I feel like I have a whole ant farm crawling in my stomach." Tara rubbed the offending area anxiously.

"You don't want to change your mind do you?" Willow asked in a rapid panic.

"No!" Tara's denial was explosive, blue eyes practically popping from their sockets. "No!"

"Okay, okay. Me, either." Willow soothed. "So- now that the power's back on- maybe we should get you some dinner to soothe your tummy?"

"I thought you were meeting Buffy?"

"Yeah, I'll go see if she's ready. You're going to come to dinner, too, right?"

Tara's pale buttercream skin flushed a delicate rose with pleasure. "I'd love to."

* * *

><p>"Power's on." Spike finished lacing his boots and greeted Buffy as she came back from her second shower.<p>

"I know. Hot water, come to mama. Did you want to- no. No, I guess that'd be a really bad idea. No reflection, lots of guys, much screaming." Buffy began toweling her hair.

"I'm fine enough. How'd you fair? Receive any standin' ovations for best performance?"

"No. Some looks." Buffy blushed and hurriedly dressed. "Hey- I had a pair of blue- Spike! Give those back."

Spike snapped her undies back to her. "Don't want that pair. Like the ones I get you out of."

"Yeah, well, my measly little allowance doesn't include buying new underwear every time we get pantless."

"Alright, alright don't get your knickers in bunch, Luv. Pun intended." He stood and stretched, peeking out the window. "Just enough shadow to get to the car. I'm starving."

"Me, too. Pretzels and diet soda are not a sufficient breakfast and lunch. I hope Willow wants an early dinner."

"Sure she'll come up for air? Sex with someone new can be very time consumin'." He leered at her. " 'Specially if it's 'new' in more ways than one."

"Spike- eww. I don't want to think about my best friend like that." She gave him a freaked out look. "I really hope she's not thinking of me like that either."

"If she's not already, just wait until someone from your floor- or the buildin', asks her who Spike is."

"Why would- oh." Buffy blushed. "Were we really that loud?" Spike gave her a long suffering look. "Oh." She said again, more quietly. "No one really knows me that well. I'm secret identity girl. You know, Clark Kent by day, Superman by night?"

"Ms. Bloody Stupid by day, Bloody Lethal Slayer by night?" He put forth. He just smiled at the jab he received. "Aww, Pet. A glancin' blow. You do care." He fluttered his lashes.

"You want the whole fist of death, I can bring it." Buffy buttoned her khakis with an air of annoyance.

"No, I'm good with these." Spike gestured to four red nail marks on each of his hands. "Kitty holds on tight to her scratchin' post, doesn't she?"

"Oh, gosh, I'm _really_ sorry." Buffy moved forward, hands out apologetically.

"Oh, hush, woman, I'm not Soldier Boy. Be gone in an hour, sooner if I'd had a drink sometime in the afternoon and hadn't shagged out all my reserve tank." He let her fingertips brush the back of his and shivered pleasurably.

"Oh, that's sick." Buffy yanked her hand away from his small scratches. "You get off on getting scratched up."

Spike swallowed an inflammatory remark and played it cool, lifting her damp hair slowly, revealing the string of love bites he'd inflicted. "Hmm. What's the difference between love bites an' love scratches, Slayer?"

Buffy looked uncomfortable and shrugged, rubbing her arms. "One's more traditional, I guess." She answered hollowly. "Guess we're not very traditional, huh?"

"You know that part where you wanna be a good lover?" Spike sidled near her, whispering in her ear as he stood diagonally behind her.

"Yes." She swallowed.

"How you give me what I want? How I don't have to ask for it?"

"Uh-huh." Her stomach was starting to fill with that molten lava feeling that led to molten lava flow heading towards parts south. How could he do that with his voice?

"These-" He took her hand and led it across his broken skin, "are proof you can do that."

"Uh?" She squeaked breathlessly.

"You know how hard it is to make you feel somethin'? Why Cardboard didn't get the job done? Someone like you needs more force, more pressure?" Unable to speak around the tightness in her throat, she just nodded. "So do vamps, Luv. More than you, prolly. You're still alive- you're all hot an' soft and juicy." He inhaled and let it out shakily, stolen air shuddering against her ear. "I'm all hard an' cold."

She could attest to that. She moved her hip experimentally against his crotch. "You need pain?"

"No. I need- passion. Intensity. An' okay, maybe I don't mind a little pain, but I'm not sayin' I _want_ it. No, Slayer- I like that you dig in." His eyes got faraway, but from his spot behind her, she couldn't see that. _Dru used to run her nails across my chest. Leave scratches, did my little night creature. Lap up the blood._ He smiled and closed his eyes, picturing the brunette beauty leaning over him- and almost swore aloud when the woman in his daydream turned blonde and wasn't slicing his skin, just mewling softly as she dug her hot hands in. And bugger all if he didn't suddenly find both equally attractive.

"Intense is great, but I don't mean to draw blood." Buffy informed him, trying not to give into the urge to turn around and unzip him, find what was hard and cool and warm it up.

"It'd be different if I was human, Slayer. If you were hurtin' me. But you don't. Not in bed anyway." He nudged his lips to ear with a dark ripple of laughter. "But blood is wine to me, food. It'd be like coverin' you with chocolate sauce."

Buffy let out a moan that was totally supposed to stay inside her head. Beside her Spike made a little answering grunt. "Yeah, uh- okay. I guess. I never tried that, so-"

"Then we'll have to get some sometime. You can be my Slayer Sundae."

Picturing the two of them covered in hot, sticky chocolate, lapping it off, thoroughly debauched and erotic made Buffy ache- and feel unsettled. That was something out of a romance novel or the back of Cosmo. Not something she should learn to like, the romantic stuff. Because then it'd be confusing. She'd want bubble baths or beds covered in rose petals, and- no. Not gonna happen, ever, so why make yourself crazy by starting down that road? _Okay by going _farther_ down that road. Because being "lovers" is already heading there._

Buffy flattened her tone to something less breathless and more practical. "Nah. It'd just make a mess. A sticky and messy mess."

His tone was harder, more lecturing. "How many times do we go over this, Slayer, before it sticks in that bubble you have on top of your neck? Good sex is supposed to be as messy as you'd like, an' if you're makin' it good, you're not supposed to be aware of the mess, 'cause you're havin' such a bloody good time." His tone softened. "Like last night? This mornin'? You soaked me, an' scratched me up, an' God I loved it." _Oh sod it. I loved it. Yes, I loved it, that's fine an' dandy, but you're gonna start confusin' lovin' the sex with lovin' the girl. Back off now, get some air, get some proper blood, clear your mind._

Buffy was startled to find herself abruptly relaxing against nothing. Spike had shoved himself into his coat and was fishing around for a smoke. "Well- glad I could- I mean, glad you liked it?" She asked uncertainly.

"Loved it." He stated emphatically, but kept himself turned partially away from her. "I'm gonna go to the crypt, get some liquid refreshment. Have fun with your mates, see you 'round."

"Okay- hey- meeting tonight, followed by action-taking, remember?" She called before he left.

"Was hopin' you'd forget that part." Spike grumbled.

"Only if you want to forget about my flexible ankles after." She tempted.

He laughed. "It isn't your ankles that flex, Pet. It's seeing how far behind your head- or mine- they can go."

"Oh. _Oh_!" Buffy turned three shades of crimson. "Well... that'll be- uh- new and exciting."

Spike swished back up to her, taking the smoking cylinder from his cool lips. "Emphasis on the excitin', Luv."

They stood close together for a few seconds, in front of the door, hesitating and frustrated. Did they kiss goodbye or not? They never had before, but now...

Spike closed his eyes as if pained and began to speak with a scowl. " Don't want to keep mentionin' complicated stuff that was said earlier, but-"

"But we have a new dimension to our- thing." Buffy cringed visibly at the mere thought of the term "relationship".

"Right. So-does that change stuff? Am I s'posed to act like that only exists when we're alone, or jus' in bed?"

"Do you have to pinpoint it?" Buffy winced again.

"S'pose not." He shrugged. "Jus' seems like there's this sudden big push for honesty an' dealin' with the charades we like to play. If that's all-" He put his hand on the doorknob and found his wrist trapped under hers.

"I'm not saying I want us to go into psychoanalysis or something. I just figured- my life sucks enough lately. I'd love it if you were a certain someone else, but you're not. I'd love it if I could be like Willow and get on with my life instead of looking forward to a happily never after." She let go of his hand. "But even though this is already screwed up and it's never going to be more than what we have right now, I'm going to stop closing my eyes to some stuff. I can pretend the pain doesn't exist with you, but that's about all. I know who you are, what you are, and pretty much what we're doing- except for the ankle thing later." She took a deep breath and shook her head. "I just don't want to pretend anymore. Look what happened when I pretended with Riley. Oh, la la la, look at Happy Buffy, normal girl, moved on to a normal boy. Bam- normal girl can't pretend enough to lie about loving him, can't even lie about being normal. And he sure couldn't deal when it was crunch time."

Spike waited for a second or two. "You done, Slayer?"

"That about covers it." She stepped away, only to find him stepping with her, backing her into the small en suite sink area. "Did I- uh- miss something?"

"No." He jammed his hands down over hers, pushing her arms to the side, and kissed her hard and conclusively. "If we're not pretending, then I'll be kissin' you goodbye when I feel like it, as long as it doesn't get me on the business end of a crossbow."

Buffy's mouth tingled and her eyes had momentarily crossed from the ravaging nature of the swift kiss. "As long as we're alone that should be fine. Try it in public and-"

"God forbid! This is our little secret an' I'll deny it until we're caught shaggin' on Rupert's coffee table."

"Oh geez! Bad, bad mental image! Grossness!" Buffy squealed and squinched her eyes closed as if trying to block the picture from entering her mind.

"An' even then- plan on sayin' I'm bespelled, Frat House aftershock, or bad batch of blood, somethin'."

"Totally." Buffy nodded firmly. "As far as anyone but you and I are concerned- we're enemies who have a sort of friendship. When mutually beneficial."

"Or as Demon Girl would say, 'They've bonded.'."

Buffy groaned. "Please. I get enough Anya-isms when she's in the room. Don't go imitating her."

"Be seein' you, then. Soon." He swept past her, out the door, into the hallway.

"Okay. Don't get sunburned." Buffy grinned crookedly.

"Hardy har har."

"Bye, Spike."

"Tonight, Slayer."

* * *

><p>"No Oz tonight? Is he still recovering?" Giles opened the door solicitously to Willow, Tara, and Buffy.<p>

"And that concludes the small talk portion of the evening." Willow mumbled. Out loud she answered, "I think he's okay. He's just- not coming tonight."

"Ah, yes, well I don't blame him. The poor chap. What a homecoming." Giles ushered them in. "Xander and Anya rang to say they'll be here about seven."

"That'll make it easier." Willow nodded and then looked worriedly between the two girls in the room and her one time crush, current very-much-respected person.

"Is something the matter?" Giles asked, looking at Willow, and then at Buffy. His eyes lingered longest on Buffy. Something about the way she and Spike were arguing as they left last night- it hadn't rung true. Oh the insults were genuine- but they were delivered with an air of almost- well, all he could think of was an old married couple having their usual spats and squabbles, but who were still deeply fond of each was no genuine hurtfulness meant.

"Nothing is the matter. Something is- different." Willow's voice was soft. "Oz left, Giles, but it wasn't because of the wolf."

"Oz? Left?" Giles jerked his gaze to Willow, eyes blinking myopically in incomprehension. " What? He only just arrived!"

"Sit down, Giles." Buffy firmly scooted him into a chair.

"But- he has to know, we're dealing with the Initiative issue! This sort of thing isn't likely to occur again, well, not since we know how to avoid detection and -"

"Giles. It wasn't that. Oz wouldn't run away because of that. He didn't run at all. I told him something that made him decide this wasn't a good place for him right now. That it'd be too hard to stay- and watch me moving on with my life." Willow took Tara's hand possessively with a significant look at the older man.

Giles stared, furrowed his brow and began to ask a question. Then shut his mouth, stared, tried again, and ended up clearing his throat while violently polishing his glasses.

"Oh God." Willow dropped Tara's hand to move to Giles' side. "I broke him! Buffy! I broke him, he's not even making that clucking noise he does when we put the books back in the wrong order!"

"I'm not broken." Giles huffed. "I do not 'cluck'. That is a noise of disapproval." He suddenly smiled gently at the new couple. "And I do not disapprove. So I shall not be making that noise."

Willow let out a breath she'd been holding, and dropped to her knees as they suddenly gave out. Tara covered her mouth with a gasp and rushed forward. "Sorry. I'm fine, I'm fine- I didn't realize how- how worried I was to tell you. I think I was more worried about you than- than my mom." Willow found herself enfolded in one of Giles' rare hugs.

"I admit I'm surprised. But I could never be upset with your choice of such a charming young lady." he looked over her head to Tara.

"Thank you, Mr. Giles." She murmured softly.

"Please. Call me Giles, Tara."

Buffy let out a noisy sob that came as a shock to her as much as to her friends, and fanned herself. "Oh my God! It's- it's just like in the movies, when the father says to the new son-in-law- or- or daughter-in-law, 'call me dad'. Sorry, it's just so- beautiful. I need a tissue! 'Scuse me!" And she bolted to the bathroom.

Giles stared after the blubbering girl and patted Willow awkwardly as he helped her up. "Well, I'm sure you two- this must be- you probably have a lot to tell." He kept darting glances down the hall. "I don't want to be rude, but have either of you noticed that Buffy seems- a little odd lately?"

"I think last night, and seeing Riley yesterday, brought up a ton of bad memories."

"Ah. The break up. I knew they'd parted company, I didn't know how- erm- messy it was."

"Picture an oil tanker colliding with a garbage scow in the middle of a spaceship splashdown." Willow waved her hands. "Kablooie!"

"Oh dear. That badly?" Giles winced.

"Nice description, Sweetie." Tara smiled.

"She broke his jaw. Twice. In two weeks."

"Oh good heavens! She shouldn't be doing that, he might be an unenlightened, boorish young man, but he_ is_ human after all. She needs-"

"He attacked Willow today." Tara interjected quietly, but with a steely note in her voice.

"I'll break his arm. Give him a more well-matched look." Giles changed his opinion rapidly.

"He didn't attack me- but he _was l_ooking to go after Buffy."

"Is he _mad_?" Giles gaped. "She'd pummel him! Not that she would- normally. Why was he-"

"It's complicated." Willow interceded. "I haven't told her it happened yet, we came straight from the campus dining hall and we had other stuff to talk about over dinner. Mainly how starving we all were."

"Perhaps we should tell her before the others arrive. If she'd come out of the bathroom." Giles looked down the hall. "She doesn't usually cry when she's happy does she? She- yips. And squeaks and makes other sorts of noises."

"That's true." Willow chewed her lower lip. "There's so much going on Giles..."

"I think she's hit an emotional overload. A breaking point." Tara nodded.

"I know, dears. Willow, perhaps you'd try to - uh- at least draw her out of the restroom?"

"I'll try." Willow headed down the hall. "Buffy? Are you okay?" Willow called anxiously.

"Fine!" Buffy said in a thick, but falsely bright voice.

"Um. I'm glad you're so happy, but if you keep this up you're going to dehydrate."

"Just another minute!" Buffy dabbed at her eyes furiously and stopped her soft, pointless sobbing, switching into pep talk mode.

_Try to make it look like happy tears, try to look like you're not bawling like a baby because your destiny sucks. There's never going to be an in-law moment. There's never going to be a wedding moment, or even an engagement moment. There might have been with Riley, but you don't want to live a lie, do you?_ Buffy gulped and looked in the mirror. Y_es, living a lie would have been fine, if it didn't hurt so much, if it wasn't such a great _big_ lie. You can't marry a guy you don't love. What was I supposed to do, never tell my husband I loved him? That was in the vows! Pull yourself together, Slayers don't do the happy._

"Buffy, would you- would you like some tea? I have chamomile?" Giles was by the door now, voice coaxing and paternal.

"Nope! Just fixing my- eyeliner!" Buffy fibbed badly. Looking at her eyes, she did decide she needed to scrub her face and reapply her makeup, as raccoon eyes were so not in right now- especially not red, puffy ones. _Pull it together. You know, even if you were with Angel, it wouldn't be like that, that warm welcome. Mom doesn't like him, Giles doesn't trust him,_ no one_ really trusts him. But I love him. I won't love anyone else, and I won't even try. Unless he's Scooby integrated, it'd never work, and I've had enough of demon hunting, superhero the hell am I saying? I'm not going to move on. There's no one I want, no one would even come close to understanding except- Spike._

* * *

><p>"I do wish she'd- seek some sort of support about the incident with Spike. Obviously she feels uncomfortable talking to me about it, but she's not talking to anyone, as far as I know." Giles took a few steps back down the hall and heard a loud honking as Buffy blew her nose.<p>

"She's talking to Spike mostly. She told me a little bit, but she says he's the only one who can really understand the situation." Willow informed him.

The idea was foreign to him, but he had to concede it had some validity. "I suppose that's true, him being the only other person there. Although it's so very odd. Buffy turning to Spike." Giles shook his head.

"Someone say my name?" Spike waltzed in through the unlocked front door as if he owned the place.

"Yes, and won't be doing so again." Giles said coolly, marching past him to shut the front door and cast woebegone looks at Willow and Tara for not locking it after themselves or reminding him to do so. "Why are you here?"

"Slayer sent up the smoke signals-" Spike puffed a cloud of mentholated gray at Giles, "and here I am." _Prepared to be as annoyin' an' crass as is demonically possible. Had m'self a pint of the real stuff at Willie's, good old A pos, and I'm not gonna let anyone even guess that the Slayer's been all over me for almost a solid day._ "Ready to thwart the boys in green in any way possible."

"Ah, yes. Well- the meeting hasn't started yet, so I'll see you in an hour or so, run along now." Giles opened the door he'd just closed and prepared to shove Spike through it.

"Wait." Spike paused and sniffed, looking around. "Where is she?" _Can smell her. Soaked in her, stewed in her juice. She's here._

"She's indisposed at the moment." Giles said firmly, taking his arm and pushing.

Spike jammed his boot against the doorframe, leaving an ugly black scuff. giles made a noise of outrage. "I only just had the doorframe repaired after the Fyarl incident!"

Spike ignored the complaint. "Either I stay or I'm headin' out. I'm not playin' about, waitin' to come back when you feel like havin' me in. Slayer asked me to attend an' I came."

Giles drew himself up fiercely. "Now, see here, this is my home-

"Giles." Willow spoke up timidly. "Uh- Buffy said she'd just be a minute." _And they spent the night in our room. He held her in his sleep. I don't know what that means exactly, but it probably means she'd be pissed off if he left before they got to plan._

"Since Buffy asked you- and you've been rather helpful lately- come in. But keep quiet, can't you?" Giles said grudgingly.

"As if I'd ever-" Spike began snarkily, but then caught sight of Tara's concerned face and her anxious, sad eyes, staring down the hall. "She down there?"

"I told Giles about us." Willow held out a hand to Tara who took it, momentarily smiling before her face become a smooth mask of sympathy again. "Buffy had a chick flick moment about how beautiful it all was."

"Waterworks, huh?" Spike rolled his eyes and sniffed again. _No... not happy tears. _Well- good. Slayer wasn't in his bed right now, and therefore he could just let her have a good bawl- except that the smell of her grief sickened him now. Reminded him of their nights together, all her grief was bound up with his suddenly, even though it shouldn't be._ She cries like I did at first. When I realized it wasn't one of Dru's little bursts of madness, when she didn't care if I chased her down, she didn't wasn't to come back home with her Sweet William. Goddamn that girl. Cryin' unless you were drunk, dead to the world, or distracted. She wouldn't touch alcohol, she was wide awake- guess I'll have to distract the hell out of her._ "Never figured the Slayer'd get all soft and mushy over two birds shackin' up."

"Spike!" Willow gave him a pointed warning glare. Tara's mouth popped open in surprise. "There's other stuff, too! Riley, for one thing." Spike's eyes narrowed at the mention of the man's name.

"I asked you to do one simple task, keep your mouth shut and you spout off... I will gag you if need be." Giles began pushing up his sleeves.

Spike ignored all of this and strode boldly down the hall, all swagger and black leather swaying with his stomps. "Slaaay-er."

"Spike?" Buffy's hand skidded as she finished her mascara. Only quick reflexes saved her from a brush in the eye.

"Get out here!"

"Geez! Just a minute!" Buffy capped her mascara with an annoyed shout.

"Stop preenin'! Other people want to use the facilities, y'know!"

"You are such a _whiner_!" Buffy threw open the door and stepped back, letting him in. Spike slammed it shut behind him, making the hinges rattle.

Willow, Tara, and Giles stared at the reverberating door.

* * *

><p>Giles sat on the edge of his desk, shaking his head. "Why is she so upset today? Today in particular? Did I miss something? Or is she simply not communicating with me?" He frowned.<p>

Tara gestured to Willow silently, as if saying, "You explain, I can't."

Willow looked like she might begin to cry shortly herself, eyes suddenly glossing. "I think it was harder than we can guess yesterday." She swallowed. "I mean- she had to go see Riley, who was a total booger face about the possession thing. We haven't talked too much about it yet- but she did have to go back to the house- probably to his room. Where it happened. And he must've said something really horrible to her, because she punched him out again."

"Seeing a former partner is always difficult. Visiting the scene of a- an attack of that very painful, emotionally distressing kind must have been- er-"

"Emotionally distressing?" Tara supplied helpfully. Giles nodded gratefully.

"Then having to go down to the labs, which is where Walsh tried to make her into Buffy-kabobs... it was just one of those sucks to be Buffy days."

"She has those a lot." Tara murmured sympathetically.

"Riley acting like he did- that must've been hard, but she she couldn't show it until the mission was done. She's all heroic like that." Willow sighed. "He was a major jerk today too." Willow leaned on the arm of the couch.

"That's really odd." Tara turned from her girlfriend as a sudden thought occurred to her.

"Not as much as you might believe." Giles spoke up. "He must be struggling in his own way, not that I for one moment condone his recent behavior, but it seems so very out of character for him that I'm sure he-"

"Oh, not that." Tara interrupted with a look of dawning comprehension as she realized they weren't speaking about the same things. "No- I meant, I thought vampires never had to use the- um- bathroom." Tara returned her gaze to the shut door at the end of the hallway.

Giles' glasses, which had been on and off his face like a yo-yo in his agitation, were pulled off once again. "No. They don't." He and Willow got up and stood beside the blonde as she stared in confusion.

"So- what is he doing in there?" Willow asked.

"And why is she in there with him?"

* * *

><p>Buffy resolutely remained turned away from him, smoothing her hair and speaking in a hostile tone. "Why are you even in here? You don't pee and if you finally decided to try to do something with your hair- you're out of luck, Mr. Non-Reflection-y."<p>

Spike snarled and closed the small distance between them. "I'm in here, 'cause you are, blubbin' away, an' out there they think you've gone all sappy, or you're pinin' over soldier boy."

"What? Over Riley?" Her face contracted at the absurdity of it. "Totally not worth the tears."

"So, you're cryin' over Red an' the blonde witch?"

Buffy sighed in exasperation. "Not exactly. It just- it was really nice. I mean, I'm still shocked about Willow liking another girl for one thing, and for picking Tara, sweet as she is, over Oz. I know I couldn't ever pick -never mind, not about me." Buffy shook her head. "But Tara came in, and she's all shy, and polite, she always calls Giles, 'Mr. Giles', and he said something like, 'please call me, Giles, dear', and it was so like one of those movies. You know? When the girl brings home the guy, or the guy brings the girl home to meet his family, and they know they're with 'the one', and the parents do that thing where they say, 'Oh, don't call me Mr. Smith, it's Dad now.' You know?" Buffy poured out her explanation in a rush.

Spike gave her a dismal look. "I know you're crackin' up, Slayer. What the hell are you on about?"

"There was this great moment." She gave him a bittersweet smile that surprised them both. Her voice softened and drifted, like her eyes. "And it hit me- there won't ever be a moment like that for me. I'm not going to fall in love with someone and bring him home for my parents to meet. The guy I want- he couldn't get that kind of approval- and he wouldn't want it. Angel left me so I could have a normal life, which means he knows he can't give me a shot at it. Only the normal boy flunked out of the picture, too. Angel or not, normal guy or not-" Her eyes suddenly returned to sharp focus and focused on him. "There's no happily ever after moment coming for me, Spike."

He wanted to mock, point out that she should have known that already, that slayers don't get those moments, they get battles and early death. He wanted to console her, say she was only a slip of a thing, not to give up hope so damn quick. He did neither. He told her his straight opinion. "No. No, probably not." They shared a long look and joint nod.

"It's like you said last night, watching Xander and Anya? Sometimes it's suddenly hard watching what you won't ever have." Tears were glimmering on her lashes again, and he reacted, stupidly, hot-headed.

_Make her mad. Make her mad enough and she won't cry. I don't want to watch her cry. Dammit. that's gonna be inconvenient eventually_. "Not to trample Red's new 'love', but could you give it more than one day to see if it sticks before you go feelin' completely left out?" He challenged arrogantly.

It worked beautifully. She gave him a furious glare and hissed, "Don't! Don't you dare ill-wish them, you- you big ill-wisher!" Her hands balled on her hips and she pushed her petite toes in their stylish boots to his, the picture of righteous indignation. "Willow deserves to be happy! She hurt for a long time, too! She deserves this! She deserves to be happy, we- we all deserve-" Buffy broke off suddenly, unable to finish.

"Oh bloody hell." Success turned to failure. He held open his arms and she came into them, head on his chest. He closed his arms reluctantly and brought her more firmly to him. "If this is friendship, it's a buggered up pain in the ass." He grumbled savagely. "Try not to get snot on my shirt, all right?"

"Shut up." She snuffled, and wiped her nose hurriedly on her wrist.

"Look, I don't know what you deserve, Slayer. Forehead didn't make you happy, but you loved him. Love doesn't equal happy, love equals love. It can make you glad, or fuckin' enraged an' crazy, or just plain miserable."

"I want the first one." Buffy whimpered pathetically, knowing she sounded like some whiny child, but not caring just then.

"Yeah, well-" Spike clenched his jaw to keep pointless comforting words from emerging. "You're not gonna get it."

Buffy looked up at him with an almost amused frown, a scolding glint in her eyes. "You're just a big ball of doom and gloom, aren't you, Eyeore?"

"I'm a big ball of honesty is what. I thought you wanted that." Spike corrected fiercely.

"I do. Doesn't mean it doesn't it hurt." Her head sagged back down, only to be caught between his strong thumb and forefinger, forcing her back up.

"I know it does. But you keep bein' strong, you hang in. You're a fighter, that's what makes you hard to kill. When I take you down someday, I'm gonna brag for a century." He smirked.

"First- not happening. Second- you already brag way too much." She rolled her eyes up at him, finding herself thinking that the cocky jerk attitude was somehow endearing on him- mixed in with the back handed compliments. _Great. I'm mentally ill now, on top of my tragic destiny. Yay, me!_

"We'll see. Guess for now I'll have to take you down some other way." His smirk became more pursed, smokily suggestive. "You up for some pain relief later?"

"After some very violent killing of baddies? Yes." She said emphatically.

"Mm, my kinda girl." Spike chuckled and rubbed her back.

_His kinda girl?_ Buffy bit her lip.

_My kinda girl? Oh, bugger, the stupidity is catchin' round here._

There was an awkward pause as both parties considered his words. Buffy snapped out of it first, suddenly aware of his arms around her, the weight of his hand circling her shoulder.

"Spike!" She got a deer in the headlights expression. "We've been in here for like five minutes! Maybe longer!" She looked at his arms on her sides, and shoved them off, stepping back. "Hugging! There's no hugging! We're in Giles' house, there's no hugging!" She hissed furiously.

"Feelin' better I see." He looked smug. "An' not to bring up the horrors of this past winter, but we already got engaged an' snogged in his livin' room. I doubt he'll kill us for huggin' in his loo. But nonetheless-" He threw his head back and shouted in a loud, abrasive tone, "Stop primpin'! You an' your bloody 'isn't it beautiful' blubbin' can get out of here!"

Buffy, after her initial surprise, gave him a grateful smile. She changed it to a scowl, getting into character as it were, and spoke in a loud petulant voice, "The only business you have in here is getting chained to the bathtub, so unless you wanna argue in a 'manacled to the faucet' kinda way..."

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" Spike cried. The two of them wiped the conspiratorial smiles off their faces and stormed out, bickering in mutters.

"Violatin' my civil rights."

"You're completely uncivil, you're a vampire."

"I'm a damn sight more well mannered than most vamps you meet."

"Yeah, you're a regular Emily Post of etiquette, with the dead body and cobweb decor."

"At least I don't live in a haze of pink and-"

"Oh good, you're feeling better! Aren't you feeling better?" Willow bounced up from her seat where she'd been wearing the top layer of her skin off from wringing her hands.

"I was fine! Totally fine." Buffy waved off her concern.

"Then what did Spike have to-"

"Got any blood in here?" Spike called loudly over top of them.

"Bottom shelf of the fridge, like always, and if you touch my Wheetabix again I'm going to put a dash of holy water into the next lot of blood I buy from the butcher."

"Can we all just sit down? There's so much to discuss when Xander and Anya get here. We need an agenda. A-a list!" Buffy directed this comment towards Willow.

"A list?" Willow's eyes lit up.

"No one makes lists better." Buffy buttered her up.

"Part of the nerdy deal."

"You're not nerdy. You're wonderfully organized and a smarty pants." Tara said loyally.

"She says things like that." Willow blushed and took Tara's hand.

"They're true." Buffy smiled quietly, and slid onto the couch.

* * *

><p>"Tell me it isn't true." Xander sounded agonized. "He's gone? Why can't we keep any alive boys on this team? No offense, Giles it's just- you're old. I thought Riley would be around for a- but hey, we hate that guy now." He stated with a shake of his head.<p>

"You're gonna want to stop talking. Willow looks uncomfortable and Buffy seems withdrawn. But that could be from the pineapple pizza." Anya hushed her boyfriend, who was not receiving the news of Oz's departure very well.

"Sorry. Oh, Will- I'm so sorry, hon." Xander got up from beside Anya and plopped himself down between Tara and Willow as they sat cross legged on the carpet. He put a brotherly arm around Willow and noogied her hair as well squeezing her shoulders. "It's not you, Wills."

"No- it kinda was." Willow tried to broach the subject of Tara, now that the subject of Oz had helped lead into it.

"No! No, it was getting captured. He probably needs time to regroup. And he'll be back. And- and even if he wasn't, there's another guy out there who's just perfect for you." He comforted clumsily, squeezing tighter with each passing second, voice growing louder.

Willow bit down a smile and disengaged herself from his now suffocating hug. "No, there's not."

"Okay, we need to deal with this attitude, right now." Xander put on his "serious face".

"Xander- there's not a guy who's perfect for me. It's a girl." Willow gave him a hesitant half smile, and nodded over his shoulder. Tara looked at her lap, hands nervously playing with her long braid as it flowed over her shoulder.

Xander followed his best friend's gaze. "A girl? As in- lesbian? As in- Tara, you're gay? Why I didn't I know that? Was I supposed to know that?"

"I- I'm um-" Tara nodded and tried to marshall her courage to speak without stuttering. "Yes. About me. B-but you didn't have to know."

"I knew." Anya said complacently. "You look at Willow so lovingly."

"Why didn't you say something?" Xander and Buffy cried.

"I wasn't sure if Willow knew."

"I knew. Eventually." Willow nudged Xander out of the way, scooting to Tara. Xander removed himself from between them with comic swiftness, retreating to Anya's side. "It's new, though. But it's good." She stroked Tara's hand comfortingly. "I told Oz. He said this wasn't a good place for him to be right now."

Xander stared, nodded, and stared some more. "Yeah. That'd be weird. For him. Not that _you_ two are weird."

"Are you wigged?" Willow asked, with pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Yeah. Hold on-" Xander held up his hand, closing his eyes and speaking out loud. "Willow's gone to the where the girls are. Willow's new honey is also a- a honey. Lesbian." His eyes opened and he smiled his wide, boyish smile. "Okay. Wigging is done. I've dealt with it."

"Xander, I love you!" Willow launched herself into Xander's arms and they hugged tightly, rocking back and forth, laughing in relief and babbling to each other. "I was really worried about telling you guys, but everyone's so cool with it."

"Wills, I dated Cordelia Chase. You can date anyone you want, you've got a free pass from me. Heck, you've got season tickets." He chuckled and Willow grinned up at him.

"This is the first time I haven't felt jealous watching you embrace another female. I approve." Anya patted Willow's arm with a praising smile.

"And- Tara. I mean, could you ask for a more awesome person?" Buffy, who'd been sitting quietly, tried to sound like she was bursting with good vibes. That set off a train of further supportive comments and questions, retelling of some of the highlights from last night, Tara finally getting up the gumption to join in. Then Buffy fell silent again. She'd done what was expected of her, got everyone sharing and happy. She sat back and wished she could do what Spike was doing. Sitting in the shadows, ignoring everything around him.

Spike sat in the corner, by the window, near the books, idly thumbing the pages of whatever was nearest, and trying not to look like he was watching the Slayer. Tried not to look like all the ooey- gooey emotional good will wasn't rotting the brain straight out of his skull. "Can we get to the part where we kill something?" He finally demanded rudely, after ten more minutes of watching Buffy retreat further and further into herself, watching the Watcher get all tweedy and repressed, and the rest chatting away.

Xander glared at him. "See? Another normal guy would've been nice. But no, we get Dead Boy Jr.- not complaining about the awesomeness of Tara." He hastily clarified. "But would it kill us to have another Average Joe Human guy in the mix?"

"I tried." Buffy smiled bleakly. "Normal guy malfunction. Sorry about that."

The room fell silent immediately. An uncomfortable silence that made Buffy want to curl into a ball and hide.

"Oh! Hey!" Willow suddenly broke the tense atmosphere. "There's something not so normal about normal guy. Riley- he was walking to our room when I was heading to Tara's- he was talking crazy."

"Riley? Crazy? Does not compute." Xander said. "Blind idiot- yeah, but he's pretty level headed with the stupidity."

"All those army gits are drugged up an' high as kites. Steroids. Smell it in them." Spike said. "They keep the sane face on, but I bet there's not one of 'em who wouldn't crack if you put the right pressure on 'em."

"Crazy talk? Crazy talk in what way exactly?" Buffy leaned forward nervously.

"For one thing, he was heading to see you, and I don't think he just wanted to talk." Willow said.

"Iowa Boy? Takin' on the Slayer? I'd pay money to see that. Although, wouldn't be much of a battle." Spike chortled with malicious glee.

"He might not have wanted to physically attack you, but he wasn't acting right. He has all these crazy ideas."

"I don't know, Honey." Tara spoke up. "He wasn't acting balanced at all. He might not have meant to hurt anyone, but he was h-hurting you!"

Xander's demeanor went from confused to violent. "Okay, I need to go put on my ass-whoopin' pants, and then I'm going over there. Hurting one of my girls is on the Xander Harris seven deadly sins punishable by ass kicking list."

"Tara already got him." Willow beamed proudly. "Not his ass, but-"

"I just made him let go." Tara disagreed.

"By totally using magic to scorch his hand."

"I wish I had my powers. I'd have scorched him. In other areas." Anya remarked wistfully.

"Nice going Tara!" Buffy grinned, although she was still kind of stuck in shock mode. Riley was many things, and a gentleman was one of the good qualities he possessed. "He- he was _hurting_ you?" She turned to Willow.

"I told you, he's not acting right. Crazy ideas, about you and Spike, and all of us, and-"

Willow was cut off by Buffy's demands of "What about me and Spike?" and Spike's startled dropping of a stack of books.

"The works of St. Vincenzo the Hermit! Pick that up!" Giles cried furiously at the vampire.

"Giles, priorities! What'd he say?" Buffy perched on the edge of her seat.

"Uh- you know. Some of the same old stuff. You and Spike- the repressed spirits, not buying it." Willow hedged. She didn't want to blurt out anything too explicit, not in front of the gang. She would tell Buffy privately, later. Willow didn't know what was going on between the two of them, but she wasn't going to sabotage the little sprouts of friendship she had seen that day.

"Pillock." Giles snarled, face hardening and fingers twitching around an invisible neck. "As if it were all some whim you concocted."

"I told you. Time to break out the ass-whoopin' pants." Xander slammed a fist into his palm.

"There was more, wasn't there?" Buffy asked Willow warily. "He's been saying that since the beginning." _He told her. About Spike and I by the crypt. He told her something, but she's not telling me... What isn't she telling?_

Willow paused and then dropped the bomb, unavoidable as it was. "He thinks you can get turned into a vampire by having sex with one." A_nd we'll leave it at that. Let people think Riley means that night in the frat. Not that he's convinced she's still getting doses of vampire juice. That he thinks Spike is her new boyfriend._

"Sodding great idiot!" Spike spat. "If you could do it that way, don't you think we'd all be off havin' orgies, instead of killin' folks? It's all about the blood. I knew the Initiative lot were stupid but this is whole new levels of brainlessness."

"I think it might be his own private theory so far." Willow hazarded a guess. "But he thinks you're heading to vampire central, Buffy, and he thinks I'm some sort of species traitor because of Oz. It was weird, Buffy- it was almost like he'd never met us before. Like whatever's in his head now replaced almost six months of knowing us and seeing us every day."

"That's so weird. Riley was always pretty regulation, steady. Getting physical with Willow, making up wild vampire theories? So much for normal." Xander mused.

"_Abnormal._" Tara murmured, and everyone nodded.

* * *

><p>"The aggression level he displays is abnormal at this stage of the chip's life." Through the newly restored hidden cameras that lined the Initiative base, Adam watched Riley pacing in his room, lashing out at his pillows on each turn.<p>

"Chip?" One of Adam's vampire lackeys stood beside him, watching other cameras throughout the lab, taking notes of numbers and types of demons and physical attributes of the humans in the facility. Recipes, if you will, for the future race of halflings.

"Yes. Mother made him one, a behavior modification chip. It's in his core, tied to his central nervous system. She intended him to be the prototype for what qualities to look for in the humans we salvage. Strong, intelligent, strict concrete sequential thinkers. I don't think she intended him to be so aggressive. Not until the battle rages. Mother doesn't know of my plan, of course, how I've furthered her initial ideals, but Riley is destined to keep the human count high."

"How is that possible? He wouldn't harm a human, from all you've said."

"No. He will fight to the last man, send in wave after wave of soldiers if he fears the demons might win. He'll keep the battle going for hours, for the sake of the greater good, to save humanity. That was the plan. It may change." Adam leaned forward and adjusted the monitor. "He's been injured again. The Slayer no doubt. That would explain it."

"The injury promotes aggression?"

"No. The increase in steroids and the pain killers which inhibit his neural sensory responses promote it. As well as making him appear illogical in his actions. He's close to a psychotic episode." Adam smiled unpleasantly. "This might change everything. It's very interesting. It's just as well that he can play so many different roles in my master plan."

* * *

><p>"So, the final item on the agenda is Adam." Giles nodded and put down the list that Willow had made. "Any plans, Buffy?"<p>

"We need to hit him with Slayer power, and more. Because he packs a punch and he's - he's-" Buffy searched for a word and then huffed. "What's that word that means he isn't easily hurt by most things?"

"Impervious?" Giles suggested.

"Yes! Maybe. He's all demonic leathery skin and machinery. Stakes aren't going to do it. I can't even knock him down long enough to try anything harder. I need to fight him at least once more to even know what would work on him!"

"So we have to find him." Anya picked the last chunk of pineapple out of the pizza box.

"Spike, that would be more in your line." Giles turned his gaze to the vampire who sat insolently in the corner, boots propped up on one of his expensive wooden chairs.

"I can find him. He's the bleedin' messiah around town. I'll find his lair, but then what do you want to do? Ask to pop in for tea and crumpets?"

"You can fight him. He's not human." Buffy said.

"Yeah, Slayer, I can fight him, but I'm not suicidal jus' now. If you get tossed about by Mr. Green Jeans, imagine what he'll do to me."

"But you're the only one who's even close to my strength. I say we take him on together."

"Oh for God's sake." Spike threw his head back. "That's a bloody daft idea."

"Buffy, you should have some back up. The kind that's not evil." Xander said pointedly.

"But you guys wouldn't stand a chance, not if I'm struggling with him." Buffy shook her head.

"Tara and I- oh, and Giles- we can be there as magic backup. We could do protection spells if we had to."

"I don't care if I get crushed, I'm not letting you go face some psychotic Frankenstein by yourselves." Xander argued.

"I don't want to get crushed. I'll stay in the car with a first aid kit for when you're done being pummeled." Anya held Xander's hand nervously. "But try not to get too badly hurt?"

"Why don't Spike and I lead the first wave, and you guys just be in the background? Emergency interference only. Even if we do get hurt, at least Spike and I heal fast." Buffy suggested.

"I still haven't said I'll do it!" Spike cried. Buffy fixed him with a withering glare. "This is more dangerous. My usual compensation won't stand." He stuck out his jaw defiantly.

"What do you want, Spike? Buffy sighed, crossing her arms.

Spike kept his face as hostile as possible, his voice a snarl. "Carton of cigs. Bottle of Jack. Hot fudge. Blood. The good stuff, not this three day old pig's garbage."

Flushing pink with what she hoped her friends would mistake for anger, Buffy agreed. "Fine! You big wimp. _I_ do it for free."

"You're just a much better person than I am, Slayer." Spike mocked in a falsely pious tone.

"Uh- yeah, since I'm _actually_ a person." She tossed her head.

"Why hot fudge?" Anya asked, puzzled.

"Dessert. Blood chaser." Spike smiled nastily.

"Giles, can I have that chamomile tea now?" Buffy whined. "_Someone's_ giving me a headache."

"Of course, anyone else fancy a cup?" Giles rose eagerly.

The conversation derailed, and the occupants of the room began scattering, talking about whatever they wanted, not only slaying related matters. Except for one. Spike sat in the deepening darkness, smoking slowly, silent, watching Buffy from the corner of his eye.

"Hey." Buffy eventually eased over to him, mug outstretched.

"Hey. I don't want a cuppa jus' now, thanks." Spike said in a low voice, with a minimum of snarkiness.

"Blood." Buffy caroled softly. "Yummy, beefy blood."

He let a slight smile escape, and took the offered cup. "You're feedin' me a lot, you know. Already had a pint here when I came in. You're usually more stingy with the red stuff."

"Um- well, there's the massively widespread patrol we're going to have to do. Then there's the other stuff. Stuff you said- you need blood for." Buffy was torn between blushing and winking. _The old, innocent, two positions, lots of kissing and strictly vanilla Buffy would blush. The new 'make me feel something', scratching, biting, multiple orgasms in a dozen positions Buffy wants to wink._ In her confusion, she smiled crookedly and whispered, "Drink up?"

Spike gave her an amused, appraising grin, and kicked his foot off the chair it rested on, using the same leg to scoot the chair out from under the edge of the table. "Join me, Slayer?"

Buffy reluctantly sat beside him, smiling into her cup of chamomile.

* * *

><p>Xander stopped paying attention to Willow, or his can of soda, staring fixedly at Buffy and Spike, sitting in the shadows, not speaking loud enough to be overheard, but apparently carrying on an animated conversation over blood and tea.<p>

"-and then Tara and I and all the girls in the wicca group had an orgy." Willow concluded her sentence.

"Huh?" Xander jumped back to the conversation. "Huh? Orgy?"

"I thought that might bring you back to the here and now. You're not listening to me. What's up?" Willow followed his gaze.

"She's not talking to us. She's sitting with him. How is that possible?" He whispered curiously.

"Shh." Willow tugged him farther away and whispered emphatically. "I don't think it's because she doesn't want to talk to us. I think it's that she can talk to him better."

"About what? What shade of black nail polish to buy?" He scoffed.

"Not that. About the shared trauma." Willow said neatly, hastily drinking her tea.

"She could talk to me. I'd listen."

"You'd get all weird."

"I would not!"

"No, I know you wouldn't try to, not in this circumstance. But c'mon, when you think of what happened, what's the first thing you wanna say?"

Xander considered. "First thing I think of... poor Buff."

"Yeah. Victimization."

"She was given the cosmic version of mega lust potion, against her will, with a partner they forced on her. That's a victim situation!" He hissed furiously.

"She doesn't think of it like that. She thinks of it like another battle. She got trapped, she kept fighting it- not letting it kill her or drain her dry- until we helped out and she won. Like a ton of other battles. Only sooo much more awkward. " Willow shivered.

"Well, you're a girl- you- not to be sexist, but you, from the girly perspective, what's the first thing _you_ think of?"

"Poor Buffy." Willow admitted. "But I know that's not what she thinks, not what she feels. But I don't get it. I don't get how she can be okay with it, how she can deal, how she can be more upset over breaking up with Riley than with sleeping with Spike. I don't get how being something's puppet doesn't break you down. I don't get it at all." Willow looked sadly at the pair in the corner. "He's the only one who does."

"I don't think they're talking about that now." Xander watched the vampire and Slayer smile and roll their eyes at something Buffy had said.

"No. But there have been a whole lot of not so good things happening lately, and I think they're starting to just- converse." Willow nodded sagely. "Give them space and time. Especially after last night." She gulped uncomfortably. "You saw what they did to Oz, who was there for a few hours. Imagine what Spike went through. I'm sure the memory seems very vivid today."

"Apples to rotten oranges. Spike deserved it. Well- not all of it, and not the freaky sex thing." Xander pulled Willow to whispering distance. "Are you sure he didn't hurt her in there? When he was- you know -doing the horizontal twist and shout with her?"

"Xander!" Willow protested.

"No, I'm serious, they might blame the house, but maybe he slipped in a little- I know he couldn't hurt her physically. But- but I don't trust him, and I worry-" He trailed off helplessly.

Willow took his chin in her hand and turned him slightly. "Xander- look at that." She pointed to the table where Buffy was making a face as she handed Spike a book. As they watched, the pair smiled at each other slightly, a little private, friendly smile that was not familiar to them. "Does that look like two people who hurt one another, or two people who are learning how _not_ to hurt one another anymore?"

The brunette let out a grudging sigh. "Fine. I will stop putting quarters in the suspicion machine. For now. About this. I think."

"Don't make me put on my resolve face." Willow crossed her arms.

"Spike? Learning to play nice? C'mon, it's gotta be an act." He hissed.

Willow again remembered the sight that greeted her that morning, Buffy trustingly laying in Spike's arms. In his sleep- Spike looked just like any other man- who avoided tanning. He'd been human once. He'd loved someone once. Maybe it wasn't just an act. "Just give them a chance?" Xander raised his eyebrows comically. "You know Buffy can make him into sidewalk salt in ten seconds if he doesn't behave."

"Oh, Will... I really, really hate him. I don't like her talking to him or spending any non-slayage related time with him."

"That's her choice though, right?"

"But-"

"You know- Riley didn't trust her. He didn't believe in her. I don't wanna think what Buffy would do if you ever-"

"Aggh! The guilt! Enough, enough, geez. You're worse than my grandmother." Xander winced appreciatively. "Buffy can handle herself. As long as she lets me keep helping with the handling."

"C'mon, she'll always need her Xand-man."

"I guess you're right. Alright, I'll graciously ignore the 'bonding' as Anya would say. But as far as you know, I hate the guy, hate his guts, and wouldn't leave him alone with an anemic weasel."

"It's okay. I won't tell anyone that you're growing as a person." Willow giggled and bit her lip.

"Good! God forbid I should suddenly grow up. That's a deep, dark secret." He held out his pinky. "Here. You have to be sworn to silence."

Willow rolled her eyes and held out her hand. "I swear."

_To be continued..._


	10. Chapter 10

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Short, smutty, mushy chapter to tide you over the weekend!_

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, two toe, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21, Dreylin, Starscape91 lil-leti, Iambean, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part X

"Head's up, Slayer!"

"Oh, ewww! Ew!" Buffy turned a furious gaze on her patrolling partner. "That isn't supposed to mean literally." Buffy wiped a strand of something formerly demon and brainlike from her hair.

"He talked. Of course he was also a real nasty piece an' I'd already got my fingers worked in good under the jaw- you know how y'do- and it seemed a shame to waste it." Spike kicked the recently decapitated body aside.

"He talked? Finally! This Adam guy inspires some loyalty, geez." Buffy shook her head.

"Told you. The local demon's think he's the messiah. But apparently- you know that place we used to break in to the lab?"

"Yeah?"

"There's a cave entrance near it. This guy said there's a 'lab compartment', whatever the hell that means, in it or with it, or something." Spike stepped closer to the petite female he'd been hunting with for the last three days.

"Well it's hard to think of specific descriptions mid death grip." Buffy looked at him as she quipped sarcastically. "So, we'll go tomorrow night, we'll do a little preliminary ass-kicking-"

"More likely he'll do ours, Slayer. If he's even there."

"-and then we'll know what to hit him with or what not to hit him with." Buffy continued as if he hadn't spoken.

"I'm thinkin' a small detonable device wouldn't come amiss." Spike muttered.

"I can't throw a bomb at him unless a., I have a bomb, and b., don't have anyone else around. I don't know what 'lab compartment' means, but if it's near the lab, people could get hurt."

"And what a tragedy _that_ would be." Spike mocked.

"You're cranky." She pouted.

"You're strangely bubbly an' cheerful." He scowled.

"We had a couple good days. Killed a lot of the unchipped escapees and made sure that Willy's seen a booming increase in chipped customers or heard that a lot of them are leaving town. Now we know where Adam's hideout is- maybe- and that's a good start!" Buffy bounced on the balls of her feet and started walking briskly along the dark, deserted trail that led from the park towards campus. "I'm pumped."

"I'm nauseated." Spike griped, but suppressed a smirk. She was such a queer little thing, all this peppy energy and she got into her battles, throwing in all she had and making it look graceful. _She's so like Dru sometimes that I- _Spike cut the thought off with a snap of his mind. _Don't ever think like that again. That she reminds you of Dru. Don't ever think she could replace her in anything more than this strange little friend and shag situation._

"Why are you such a sourpuss?"

"Vampire. I don't do giddy."

"But this is good stuff, vampire wise. Well- unless you _want_ to get spliced with all kinds of other pieces and turn into little Adams. At least if we know where he is, we can start trying to take him out. It's all good. Now, if I knew that Riley was letting everything go and returning to normal, I'd be much better." Buffy sighed and looked off into the night.

"No word from him? No sighting?"

"No. I wonder what's going on with him."

* * *

><p>"What's going on with you, man? Are you ever gonna tell us who broke your jaw?" Forrest came in a bit after midnight, done his shift, and threw a bottle of orange juice at Riley and the other man caught it and stuck a straw in it.<p>

"HST sympathizer." He said grimly.

"Sure it wasn't _actually_ an HST? 'Cause you look like shit."

Riley kept his suspicions that Buffy might not be too far from becoming an HST to himself. Instead, he told a half-truth. "I'm not sleeping. Hard to get comfy when you can't roll over in your sleep." He pointed to his face.

"You'll be better in a couple weeks. Doc says you can patrol again soon."

"Yeah. Thanks for the OJ, Forrest." Riley dismissed him and waited until the door had shut. Then he was up, putting on his gear, packing his bag. Electrified steel netting, taser, stakes, reinforced, tempered cuffs. "I don't need to patrol. Just need to find one little vampire." Riley knew he'd have to wait until the fraternity was quiet, closer to two. But as soon as it was peaceful, he'd be out, heading to Restfield, to one crypt in particular.

* * *

><p>"You wanna come with?" Buffy asked as they walked.<p>

"To your place?" Spike raised his eyebrows. "Bit crowded for what we usually do, yeah?"

"Willow's spending the night at Tara's. Actually- she has every night since-" Buffy shrugged to end her sentence. "Tara doesn't have a roommate and they're getting a kitten."

"So it looks like it's the real deal?" Spike asked softly.

"Yeah. I mean, it's only been a few days, not even a week, but Will seems happy. At peace." Buffy wrapped her arms around herself. "Happy and at peace."

"Envious?" Spike questioned sympathetically.

"Only when I'm awake." Buffy grinned wryly.

"Don't blame you. Hell, I am, an' all I do is hear about it." He absently put an unlit cigarette to his lips, and shook his head. "Rough, init?"

"Seeing your best friend start a new, happy relationship after turning down a second chance I would literally kill for? Oh, rough is the understatement of the year." Buffy turned to him with a sigh. "I'm not trying to sound mean."

"Oh, please, Luv. I like it." Spike teased. Buffy hit his arm lightly and he chuckled. "I know, Slayer. You're the stand up type. You're happy for them, but sad for yourself. Bet you keep the sad all bottled up until you're alone."

"Willow's barely been around since Oz left -the first time, and she and Tara got closer. I spent a lot of time with Riley, so I didn't notice it as much. Now I do." Buffy gave Spike a small smile. "So I'm kinda on my own."

Slightly confused by her smile that didn't match her tone, Spike carelessly tossed out. "Like it?"

"Yeah. No. But yes." Buffy shook her head to straighten out her thoughts. "I like having the place to myself, but I miss seeing my best friend except at Giles' and if we catch each other for meals. I'm not trying to sound petty, I know what the new love thing is like, or at least- the new relationship thing. And Will's really happy." She sighed. "Could you just pretend to understand, so I can stop trying to explain?"

"I do understand, Slayer. You're a little bit lonely an' left out." He summed up neatly.

"But in a happy, not selfish way, right?" She asked in pleading little voice. Spike laughed out loud and stepped closer to her. Magnetically, she slid under his arm and they turned their steps towards campus.

"It's all good, Slayer. You do your best." He jovial tone became more serious. "It's just hard watchin' someone move on an' wonderin' how the hell they do it."

"I know." Buffy wrapped her arm around his waist, inhaling the smokey, masculine scent of him. "I know I never could."

"Never." He agreed firmly, shaking his head at the folly of those who'd choose happiness and change over true love and loyalty. "You've got demon bits in your hair, Luv." He picked out a few strands.

"I officially hate my job." Buffy moaned and flinched as he teased her hair with his nimble fingers. She looked up at him pitifully. "Is it coming out?"

"Gonna need a wash." Spike admitted defeat.

"Shower-bound. Hurry." Buffy increased her pace. "I'm going to cover every inch of me with bubbles and gallons of hot water and I'm not getting out until I'm squeaky clean." She vowed.

"Wish I could have a front row seat for that show." Spike chuckled.

"Pig."

"You're the one who squeals, Slayer."

"You purr!"

"Don't!"

"Do!"

"Shut your gob!"

"What's a gob? No, wait, I know that one. That's mouth, right?"

"Well done, you remembered something!" Spike stopped bickering to give her some genuine praise.

"Do I get a cookie?" Buffy teased.

"No." Spike's voice dropped suddenly, falling into a dark, slippery wet range that made Buffy feel all of her muscles clenching. "But I have somethin' else you can nibble on. If Red isn't home..."

"We never got the chocolate sauce." Buffy said breathlessly.

"It's okay, Baby. We're still good enough to eat." Spike whispered in her ear.

"Oh- uh-huh." With their unnaturally fast speed, Buffy and Spike were already in sight of Stevenson Hall. "You know...there are private stalls in the shower, and no one's usually showering at this time of night."

"You want me to join you? I'm impressed! Slayer's got a kinky side." He spoke in a sing song voice as he smirked, rolling his lips into a smile, heightening his cheekbones.

"I _meant_ you could grab a shower while I'm having one, and probably not get caught! Then- we could- watch television. Or- or raid the snack machine."

"Or see if we can get another round of applause?" He suggested.

"No! We need to be slightly less obnoxiously loud." Buffy blushed. "But the- thing that makes us loud? We could so do that."

"That's my girl." He smiled warmly.

Buffy leaned into him as they started mounting the stairs of the dorm. _His girl. Well- I don't have to love him to be his girl.I just have to be with him, however we are. He's kinda broad minded that way._ "Yeah. Guess I am."

Spike looked taken aback. He'd said it without thinking. But when he thought... "Yeah. Guess you are."

* * *

><p>Buffy showered in a hurry, weird prickly feeling running up and down her spine. <em>Spike's in the shower, too. Scrubbing up after a night of patrolling. Next up is insane sex. He'll hold me if I want to be held. If I bruise him with Slayer strength, he'll just kiss me and tell me how good it feels. If I get all soppy and deep thinking- he's right there with me. Holy cow. It's ideal. Except that I can't really stand him.<em>

Buffy dried off and nodded at the only other girl in the place as she left, wrapped in her towel and robe. _If I can't stand him, why do I see him so much? And why am I wet? Not water wet- _other_ wet. This is so messed up._

His voice echoed in her head. "Good sex is messy sex." Well, that was one way to think of it.

* * *

><p>Spike made it back to the room first, and absently paced the room, touching knick knacks, adjusting books and papers on the desk. <em>This is ridiculous. I'm in a dorm room. Waiting for what should be my dinner or at least my third Slayer of Slayers success story to get back into the room so I can fuck her senseless. Only I'm not gonna. I'm not gonna hurt the girl, 'cause I can't, I wouldn't anyway, 'cause there's some things even <em>I_ won't do- and now- now because I don't want to. I want to make her feel good. Make her smile and laugh and writhe. Maybe make her do that sweet soft gulping noise when she looks up at me and calls me her Sweet Spike. I do love that. What's wrong with me?_

Spike crashed back onto her bed with moan and covered his face with one spread hand. "I'm insane. I've lost it. The Big Bad is dead."

"Well- he's certainly big." Buffy came through the door in time to hear his rant.

"You're back." Spike stated the obvious.

"Uh-huh." She rolled her eyes, and locked the door. "So- you're just full of obviousness tonight. The Big Bad is dead? Just now realizing you're a vamp, huh? The pointy teeth and lack of heartbeat never tipped you off?"

He narrowed his eyes warningly. "Slayer-"

"You_ had_ to have noticed you were big." Buffy walked slowly to the bed, and stared down at him, looking at the tent in the towel. "I mean... wowee."

"Buffy..." Less warning, more hinting.

"As for bad- well- what kind of bad are we talking about?" She slowly undid her robe, and knelt beside him on the mattress, gasping when his hand connected with her thigh under the towel.

"What are we doing?" Spike grunted, pulling her down beside him.

"Being friends?" Buffy hazarded, kissing him deeply.

"Friends don't usually undress your wet, hot little body, Slayer." He pointed out, sliding both their towels off.

"Being lovers then." She offered, and reached over his head to flick the bedside lamp off.

"You still up for being good enough to eat, Lover?" Spike purred in the dark.

"You first." Buffy kissed his collarbone and started down his chest.

"Together." Spike corrected.

"What are you- oh." Buffy let him move her so she was reversed, her head level with his waist.

"Dessert. Minus the ala mode." He draped his arm across her hips and sighed contentedly. "You are gorgeous. All soft and-" He pushed a finger inside her and made her arch with the sudden intrusion, "tight."

"Ooooh." Buffy let out a low moan as his lips started whispering kisses on the backs of her thighs, heading inward, finger still exploring. "Well, no complaints here either." _Who'd have thought such a funny looking pointy thing that I'd never ever touched before a couple years ago would now make me get all wet and moany? And hungry. Why does he taste so good? It's pure, unadulterated Spikeliness. Shouldn't that gross me out, not turn me on?_

"Easy, Baby, gonna break my finger." Spike chuckled as her velvety walls clamped on him mercilessly. "Such a soaking wet Slayer. " He added as his tongue joined in the action.

_That answers the grossed out question conclusively. And so does this..._ Buffy grasped his thickness in one fist and pumped, kissing along the pale hardness and running her tongue over the edges and veins she found.

Conscious thought took a complete leave of absence for a long time, although compliments and happy noises were flowing freely.

"So yummy."

"Slayer..."

"More, right there!"

"No, use your teeth, Luv, I like it. Oh. Ahhh, fuck, Buffy yes, just like that, drag 'em up and down."

"You make me crazy." Buffy whimpered, finding herself starting to shudder on his hand and oh boy- his tongue.

"But good crazy?" Spike groaned, removing his tongue from her channel long enough to speak.

"Uh-huh!" She gasped and rolled her hips.

"Front row seat." Spike sighed contentedly as he watched the up-close and personal show he was getting, and wondered how long he could keep her going...

"Spike. Spikespikespike!" Buffy chanted, screaming higher and higher as she reached the peak.

"Thought you wanted to be more quiet than the last- bloody hell!" Spike roared and arched to the point where only his hips and shoulders touched the bed, practically unseating her from her sprawl across his torso. Buffy had just discovered what happened if both hands and her mouth got into the action- with Slayer enthusiasm.

"Thought you wanted to be more quiet than the last time." She teased.

With a growl, Spike pushed her mouth back over him. "You're gonna undo me, Pet."

"That's okay with me." Buffy loved the feeling of triumph when she made him cum, made him weak and babbling, incoherent with passion. And judging by his reaction, that moment wasn't far away.

"Really?" Spike sat up, watching her bob enthusiastically on his shaft. "You don't seem to be the type who-"

"What?" Buffy sat up and turned around.

"Well- your mouth- my cock- imminent undoing about to occur..."

"Oh. Ew!" Buffy gaped and sat back with a frown.

"I didn't think you swallowed. Well- hadn't tried it yet." He took her hand and lead it back to his sheath with a suggestive smile.

"No! No, and not gonna, and never. It's disgusting!"

"You know, I was only asking." Spike replied in a piqued voice. He returned Buffy's glare with one of his own, sitting up sharply. "I wasn't trying to force you into something, I couldn't and I_ wouldn't_." Buffy's face softened, but he wasn't finished. "Furthermore, Straight-Laced, it isn't disgusting, okay? Don't insult stuff you haven't tried." Buffy opened her mouth and raised her hand to touch his arm lightly, but he plowed ahead. "And just so you know- what do you think I'm doing when I lick your sweet little pussy and work my tongue inside you? I swallow your essence down an' fuckin' love it. It isn't so out of line to think some people would do the same for their male partners." He crossed his arms, nostrils flared, and subsided.

Buffy waited a second. "Can I talk now?"

"Mphh." Spike huffed and shrugged. He was tempted to do the whole sulking bit and turn his head, but he retained some shred of dignity and looked steadily at her.

"You're not disgusting." Buffy began. Both of them shared an expression of surprise. "Yeah. I can't believe it either, but I do feel that way. It's not _you_ that I don't like. And you're right, everything you've asked me to try, I liked. I loved, even." She blushed. Spike was way more adventurous than she'd ever considered, positions and things he said...and she loved it. "I like how you taste, and I like you tasting me. What you said makes sense, about men and women, and- tasting." She walked up on her knees, scooting closer to his head, dropping her voice. "There's stereotypes about women who do that."

"There're stereotypes about everything and everyone." Spike pointed out, letting his head crane forward to hers.

"I understand. It's personal. It's intimate." She leaned forward.

"Everything we do is intimate." Her lips were barely separate from his own now. _Bloody hell. This is- wrong. This is- different. This is that soft stuff._ But nonetheless he exchanged several slow, relatively chaste kisses with her before she was climbing on top of him, pushing him back, eyes almost glowing with desire.

"I'm not ready for some things yet, I guess." Buffy whispered.

"It's fine. Just don't like you thinking of what we do as disgusting. That word's not supposed to exist when it comes to making love. When two people are in-" Spike trailed off, realizing what he'd started to say._ Bugger, bugger, bugger! It's just so easy to think in those terms._

Buffy helped him. "When two people care?"

He nodded gratefully. "Yeah. That. They're s'posed to be so close that no part, no act isn't good, isn't -beautiful." _Like Dru an' me. No part we wouldn't kiss, wouldn't touch, wouldn't love. Licked her wounds shut. She kissed my burns. I loved her sweet, innocent ethereal face, I loved her demon face, my huntress._ He turned gruff. "That's the general idea, anyway. We don't have to-"

She silenced him with another kiss. His words, his expression when he talked about sex and love, they were amazing. You could tell, that for a complete conniving bastard, he was honest about this stuff. And when he spoke- you could get wrapped in his words and swallowed whole. "You're really, really smart about this stuff. That's what I want. I never cared if- if love was right or wrong. It wasn't supposed to matter 'cause it was _love!_ That's all that counts. I know we're not in love but- but I wouldn't mind acting that way, in here." She leaned her head on his shoulder and gave him a beseeching look. "I'd like to know what that's like. When it's beautiful and close- like you say it is."

If his undead heart could thump, it would have. Such a beautiful girl, and such passion inside. All this love bottled up, and waiting to be poured out. He'd be a fool not to take advantage of it. He'd be a bigger fool to force it, break what was so rare to find. "There's no rush. Just relax. Things just happen sometimes, and you go with it, you don't get flighty and start chantin' in your head about what's taboo an' what's not."

"You make it sound easy."

"Not supposed to be difficult." He slid his hard hand up the back of her neck, clutching the nape of her neck and base of her skull, pulling her into another desperate hungry kiss, feeling the rush of heat between her legs, and the throb between his own.

"Mm? Mmmmm!" Buffy made a little gasp of surprise, then pleasure as they kissed and fell to their sides, face to face, her upper leg resting over his sleekly chiseled hipbone.

"Ready for me, Baby?" He asked in a hot, husky voice that sent tingles down her spine.

"Oh, yeah. Very ready." Spike's words were like a promise to a wild time that'd leave her weak and thoroughly sated. Riley's words were gentle and tentative. Angel hadn't spoken except to say her name and a few breathless "I love you"s. Spike's words unlocked her.

They angled together, her lifting, him scooping, to make them join. "Ohhh, God."

"Fuck, so bloody hot!" Spike hissed, and then moaned when she dug one hand into his shoulder. "My girl." He snarled, tilting his head to let his blunt teeth graze her knuckles. "That's right, dig into me."

"Give me a reason, Spike." Buffy rocked her hips to his, and watched him shift and grunt, a devilish smile gracing his features for a moment.

"I will." He swore. One hand locked on to her soft lower back, the other cupped one of her soft cheeks hard, fingers leaving imprints where he grasped, and rode into her passionately. In that position, he had his choice of nibbling her neck, finding her lips, or enjoying her breasts, all by a shift of his head, and he could thrust up hard, or let her bring herself down onto him. "I could do this all night." He laughed wickedly. Buffy merely moaned and clutched him tighter.

The clutching tighter turned out to be a necessity soon. Bodies started to slip and slide as the springs complained from their furious pace. Spike's hands shifted, one arm across her upper back now, and Buffy mewled, locking her arms around his shoulders. "Hold me tighter, hold me tight." She ordered in a breathless purr.

"I got you. Rock solid, I got you." He gripped her rear tighter, sliding down some to include her upper thigh, holding her hard against him. "There. Got you." He locked his hand down and felt her jump. "Slayer?"

"Nothing." Buffy whispered urgently, and pistoned her hips to his.

Spike groaned and massaged the firm little globe he was holding- and realized why she'd jumped. His thumb was brushing a sensitive spot between her cheeks. Without saying anything, he brushed it again, and again felt her quiver, but she didn't stop riding. Slowly letting his hand slide, he let his forefinger circle and stroke her unopened entrance deliberately.

Buffy tensed on him, pace slowing but not stopping. _This is so wrong. That is not part of my sexual package. I need to tell him to get off, get away, but- I don't want to push him away. I just- I'm just going to hold still until he tries something he shouldn't. And then I'll punch him. That's the plan._

Of course, she'd somehow forgotten him and his bedroom persona, so different from the jerk she'd only seen the villainous face of. He spoke in one of his dark, devious, but oddly comforting whispers, "Shh, shh, won't push, won't touch more than you'd like, my sweet girl, just want to make you feel good." He stroked her back comfortingly and let his lips find her earlobe. "Is this too much?"

She considered. She thought about what they were discussing prior to starting this round of wild sexual frenzy. "No, no, of course not." She fibbed easily. "There shouldn't be any part you can't touch. Isn't that right?"

Spike looked up at her in surprise. He'd expected her to bat him away and tell him that all touching of that area, and anything more, was off the menu. She really was something rare. "It's the idea, but you have to- trust a person, I guess and love them and-" _Sod it. Trust? And love!_

Buffy almost laughed at the flash of panic in his eyes."You can put your eyes back in their sockets. I know it's not love. And no, it's not trust, you can put your bad guy suit on with pride knowing that. But I know you won't hurt me. Let's try what you want to try."

Spike shook his head in relief and wonder at this girl. When had she grown a brain in that bubble head? Probably about the time he'd grown a speck for a soft spot for her in his heart. "It's what _you_ want. I just thought it might make you feel good. Must be so close to all the other lovely juicy bits for a reason, right? Designed to pick up some of the good vibes."

"I do want to try things. Slowly." She ground herself to him in a circle, and let him wrap her up in his arms, one hand still between her cheeks, finger lightly teasing on every downward glide. After a few moments, the strange sensation became a pleasurable one. Nothing she'd ever go into raptures about, but -oh. Ooh.

"Like it?" He asked softly. He felt her nod and smiled into her hair. He did love her hair, like spun gold, all soft and silky as it began to dry from the shower.

"Is this something you always do? People always try?" Buffy asked, wondering if she'd somehow missed a key part of her sensory package for the last six months.

Spike paused. He and Dru, no, not always, but was it always an option? Absolutely. Would he have ever taken the time to do it with Harmony? No. Not like this. If he had cared enough to love her, or hate her, maybe. So why was he being so exploratory with the Slayer?

"No. Not always. It's- it's personal, you have to care, have to want to be close." He confessed. "I could never do much with Harm. Just get in, get it done. Took care of her too, of course, but more inventive, more intensive- no."

"But me?" Buffy brought her forehead to his, staring down into cerulean depths in the darkness.

He choked on the words but they insisted on coming out. "I care more for you than for her. Now isn't _that_ sick?" He looked up at her with a bewildered, self-loathing expression.

Buffy stroked his hair back. "Yeah, I know what you mean." Her words came out softly, and dreamily, as if she couldn't believe what she was saying. "I care more for you than Riley. I want to make you feel good. I want to give you things I never even thought of giving him."

"You do, Slayer. You do." Spike rolled on top of her and pounded into her, bringing them back to the brink of orgasm suddenly. "You give me plenty. Never had it so good, an' that's true."

"I know, I know, me either." She winced and started spiraling into the hot mist behind her eyes that came when she felt her climax start. "Where are you most sensitive?" She demanded suddenly, one coherent thought penetrating her haze. _Give him what you never gave anyone else. Like he's giving you what no one else ever did._

"You've got the whole sensitive package inside your hot- little -body! Dammit!" He roared, his speech punctuated with shudders from her grasping walls.

"No. There's more. There's more, I want to give you more." She traced his neck and chest with desperate fingers, watching him writhe as she scraped across his nipples, but toss his head and look utterly lost to himself when she found one patch on his neck. _It's his bite. Vampire starter kit. I can't... it's so sick. It's so wrong. It's monstrous._

Then he whimpered when her fingers dug in a little more. "So long..." He admitted with a harsh pant.

For some reason, that undid all concepts of monstrosity and right and wrong. _He hasn't been touched in the one spot that makes him feel so good- in so long. Because Dru's not here to do it for him. Because his other half is gone, and she took away the pleasure, left all the pain. And love doesn't have any ugly parts, any rights or wrongs._

In her desire, Buffy never even realized how she'd just thought of them. Of their acts. As those of two people in love.

All of him was leaning back into her touch, hips no longer pumping, now they were locked in a hard fast, grind, almost there, but not quite.

"William." Buffy whispered urgently. "Spike, come here."

_She wouldn't. No. Never._ But still he leaned down, shivering with hope and want he tried not to feel. Her lips passed his bite, moving to his ear. His shoulders sagged, but he concentrated on the heat and tight, wet massage that she was giving him, that any man, living or dead, would kill to receive. That was plenty.

"I want to give you what you give me. That feeling. Right or wrong. Just to make it good."

"Buffy." He moved to kiss her, such a sweet sentiment, so much love bound up in that poor girl, looking for an outlet.

His lips never got that far. With a sharp tug on his hair, she bared his neck, closed her eyes, and bit down, not hard enough to draw blood, but hard enough to make him feel the cascade of pleasure. The demon roared, the man shook, and the woman came, clawing him, screams muffled by his throat.

There was a moment after where the world stood still and all that they could hear was the echo of their screams and cries, and the single thumping heartbeat.

_She bit me. The Slayer bit me. Buffy bit me. Because she knew. She knew it would give me something nothing else could- and it was probably bloody confusing for her as Little Miss Goody Two Shoes. But she did it. For me._

Buffy yelped as she was jerked out from under him and wrapped up in his arms, sitting up on her bed in one of those steamy romance cover novel kisses, torsos heaving, fingers tangling, mouths consuming. Spike seemed to be trying to tell her something without words. She was trying to do the same.

Spike let her go at last, fingers urgently stroking her face, her lips.

"Spike." She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"I know, Baby."

_What did he know? Do I know it? Do I want to?_ "Good?"

"You have no idea." He said with absolute gravity, and she knew he, Mr. Motormouth, couldn't find the words. It shook her. When Spike couldn't explain something or tell you about something- the world was rapidly spinning off its axis. "What was that? What is this?" He held her forearms gently, but tightly, like he never wanted to let her go.

"The death of right and wrong." Buffy shrugged. "All the lines are blurry, Spike. Everything is gray."

"Haven't they always been?" He smiled wanly.

"Probably. It's just grayer. Dimmer. More confusing."

"Jus' hold onto me." He whispered, moving her onto his lap. "I'm real good at seein' in the dark."

"Got you. I won't let you go." Buffy smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. Both of them knew she didn't mean for just that moment, but neither decided to mention it.

* * *

><p>"I better go, Luv." Spike pushed the hair from Buffy's face as it lay, sleeping peacefully on her pillow. "Hate to wake you, but thought you'd wanna know I was headin' out before first light."<p>

"Thanks." Buffy looked at him as he leaned over her. "Tonight?"

"Is tonight Adam-baitin'?"

"Uh-huh."

"I s'pose I'd better. Don't want you to get your pretty little neck broken. Not without me there." He kissed her neck, inhaling her. "You smell... absolutely delicious." He tried not to slaver.

"Good enough to eat- but not to drink." she told him pointedly, but without her usual sharp, shrewish tone. She would deny trusting him 'til she was blue in the face, but she sorta kinda did. On a few things. He'd bite her if he had the chance. But he'd have to really think about it.

"Not even a few sips?" Spike was half-teasing, half-serious.

"I'm not a juice box, Bonehead." Buffy was wigged at the undercurrent of suggestion in his voice.

"Of course you aren't!" Spike sounded outraged at the mere thought. "You, my sweet, sweet Slayer- are champagne. Finest nectar, ambrosia, wine of the very gods." He whispered passionately, tongue brushing her skin as he spoke against it, cool lips framing the hollow of her throat.

"Wow." Buffy found herself breathing harder, without even meaning to. "Uh- that's nice."

"I'm buyin' you a thesaurus later." Spike grumbled playfully. "So no nips? Not even a single red drop for your favorite vampire?"

"You're _not_ my favorite vampire." Buffy shoved him away, voice hardening.

"It was a joke." Spike muttered. He rose from the bed, naked, and began to get dressed, his nearly luminescent skin flexing over rippling back and shoulder muscles as he turned away from her.

Buffy watched him, anger growing. For being a jerk. For saying stupid things. Things that made her think. _Favorite. Favorite would mean something you liked the best, loved the best. Or did favorite mean the one you used the most, went to most often?_ Giles' favorite sword was not his most beautiful, prized one, with the fancy engravings. It was his simple, sturdy one, with the slight curve on the blade and an over balanced hilt that he liked to use because he could grip it more comfortably.

Favorite should mean best. Angel was the best, good, pure of heart- when the soul was in residence. Noble and caring. And heartbreaking. And gone.

Spike, on the other hand, was there. He was bad. He didn't help out for the sake of a higher calling or to atone for his sins. He reveled in his sins. He would have a t-shirt made that said "Ask me about my sins!" if it came in black or red. He would never be a knight in shining armor, come to save her, or love her, or protect her.

Buffy smiled as she watched him dressing. _Spike_ would sit back and watch her fight, applaud at the end, cheer for her. He'd laugh out loud if you said she needed a knight, or a protector. He didn't leave, he didn't break hearts. He was just- there. Comfy. Like the not-quite-true handle on the sword. Something wrong and crooked that felt right when it was with you.

"Hey." Buffy sat up in bed, sheet covering her chest. "You know what?"

"No, what?" He asked crossly.

"You're not my favorite vampire. You're not the one I love." She began.

Spike sighed and turned to her, face a picture of tiredness. "No, I know that, an' I don't mean to make a big deal of little words, so-"

"So you can't be my favorite." Buffy cut him off. "Because let's face it- you make me nuts, and you're a jerk- and you smoke. I hate that. Plus- evil."

"Hate that you put that last." Spike groused bitterly.

"But if I had to pick the guy who makes me feel the best, the most comfortable, the one I have the best, least angst-ridden, heartbreaking time with? The one who makes me feel okay-est? That'd be you."

Spike stood in silence, stunned for a good ten seconds before he could come up with a witty reply. Then he couldn't come up with anything but a simple, "Thanks, Slayer."

"You're welcome."

He paused, sighed and then grit his teeth. "Damn. Bloody hell."

"What's wrong? I just gave you a big compliment, especially considering, hello, I'm the Slayer!" Buffy cried in exasperation.

"That's what's wrong. Considerin' what I'm about to say." He looked at the ceiling for a moment, addressing his remarks to it. "I know the competition for favorite vampire isn't exactly stiff, down to me an' the Poof, yeah? So what I'm gonna say is wrong on multiple levels." He looked at her icily, speaking in a biting tone. "You're my favorite human. Ever. Since becomin' a vamp. I've met thousands, although true, most weren't spendin' quality time with me. But the handful I've gotten to know- I hate you the least, put up with you the best."

"Spike- that's so- sick. But sweet!" Buffy got up, blushingly walking to him, hugging her naked nubile body to him. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." He ran his hands covetously up and down her body as they embraced. Little minx. She didn't help matters, leaning up into him on her pedicured little toes. "Now- stop, or I'm gonna have a sunny walk home."

"Then I guess tonight's your place. So we can stay together longer." Buffy kissed him lightly, amazed at herself, her attitude. Bold, decisive- sultry. She liked it- but wasn't too comfortable with it yet. "If you want. If we can stand each other that long."

"Lookin' forward to seein' if we can." Spike smiled and pushed himself away with a grunt of self-control, something he rarely exercised. "I have to go. I don't want to, but I have to." He admitted, cursing the form in front of him and the reactions it gave him.

"Yeah, Willow will be stopping in, probably." Buffy didn't move away.

"Daylight." He stopped pushing her back.

"Bad combo, you and daylight." She leaned forward and gave him a feline smile. "Kiss me goodbye?"

He pounced, kissing her needfully. "Home can wait for five minutes."

* * *

><p>Riley stretched his stiff muscles and looked at his watch. Five more minutes and he'd be late. He needed to get in, get back into bed, all without anyone seeing him, and some of the lower ranks still had four AM drill and role call, thanks to Walsh's successor. Col. MacNamara, regular army, by the book and everything Riley hoped to be in thirty years' time, was likely to spring inspections on you or call role call at dawn just to make sure the boys were on their toes. Only he was willing to bet the Colonel had never had his girlfriend infected by demons and felt the need to stand watch in the night hours to find and kill aforementioned demon when it returned home before daylight.<p>

"Damn." Riley hastily began to zip his gear and walk silently away from the thicket beside Spike's mausoleum. He must be holed up someplace else.

He had to hurry. He had to be there, lead his squad, even from his spot on the injured list. The raid the other night was making everyone jumpy, and they looked to him.

A lot of men had been scared by the idea that Adam engineered the raid as a a test, to see how easy it would be to let out all the demons at once, raise a localized Armageddon. They didn't know, and he wouldn't tell them, that one little woman could be just as hard to contain, and probably twice as cunning as Adam, with her tendency to get herself into trouble and get out of it aided by nothing but some teenagers, a handful of archaic weapons, and a tame vampire. Let them think it was Adam. They should be prepared for the worst.

Because she'd probably come after the next HST he brought in. Since it would be her personal pet. "Damn vampire." Riley muttered and stalked quickly through the wooded way to the campus, keeping to the shadows. He'd come back. He'd come back every night, and soon every day, once classes were done, and his time was more his own, until he caught Spike alone, without his new "protector". "Buffy can't stay with you forever. When you're done being tested, we'll kill you, figure out how to cure her, and everything will be just fine. Just fine." Riley gave a sudden violent twitch and rubbed his jaw. His meds must be wearing off. Better hurry home. He cleared the wooded trail and reached the street just as the sun rose.

* * *

><p>"Home sweet home." Spike slid through the heavy door just as the sun rose- pausing inside the open door to sniff in heavily, like a dog scenting its prey. Army boy. his lips curled in disgust. "What the hell was he doin' here? Wanker."<p>

Spike slammed the door and immediately searched his crypt thoroughly. The boy'd come inside. He jumped down to the second level, grabbing a knife from the side of his recliner on the way. "You're not here. Can't hear anything. No heartbeat. No blood whooshin' through... Did you leave any nasty little prezzies for me?" He murmured into the dark, stone silence.

Nothing. He found nothing in the lower level, Finn hadn't even found the trapdoor, Spike could tell, sniffing around the hidden entrance and the ladder rungs. No new scent. None but his and Buffy's.

Upstairs was a different story, his scent was all around the edges of the room, the fridge, the chair. Spike ripped open his plastic quart jars of blood and sniffed and tasted each one. No drugs. Nothing nasty slipped in.

"Fuckin' wanker." Spike snarled and crashed back in his chair. He'd violated the unsanctity of his home. He'd have to ask the wicca set if there was something that could keep the boy out. _Shit. I'm turnin' into one of the bloody Slayerettes._ He savagely got back up and got his blood and his JD and returned to the chair.

_I have to tell Slayer what her ex has been up to. Hell, I hate to tell Buffy that, she has enough to worry about._ After being startled into mental silence by that thought, he sighed and mixed himself an unorthodox cocktail in his quart container. _Gotta tell her. If somethin' happens, she's gonna be brassed off if I didn't tell her. She's the Slayer. She can handle the bad news. She'd want to know, before I end up as dust an' break her heart._

Spike lost his grip on his blood for a moment before he caught it with his vampiric reflexes. "Stupid thought. Can't break what's already broken."

Suddenly, nothing tasted good, and the television didn't seem so interesting. He put his drink back in the fridge and silently slipped downstairs. He lay down on the bed, and reached out for someone who wasn't there. For the first time in a long time, it wasn't Dru he was reaching for.

_To be continued..._


	11. Chapter 11

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Now, in my timeline Buffy's already been to LA and had the Faith confrontation with Angel, because it's ambiguous between the Angel S.1 and the Buffy S. 4 episodes when exactly in takes place. Besides, I'm writing, and I played with the events, why not the timeframe, right?_

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, two toe, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21, Dreylin, Starscape91 lil-leti, Iambean, nosurprises, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XI

Buffy slid into the crypt in the late afternoon, immediately after her last class. She'd had a nagging feeling in her stomach all day, and it wasn't just because they were going to go do something dangerous and deadly after dark. That was the norm. If not for the giant likelihood of death, it would be kind of boring by now. She just had an uneasy feeling on campus. Campus was like the neutral zone for Riley and her. Neither of them had the exclusive rights to be there, and Riley had dozens of friends- well, squad guys- there and she had Willow and Tara- sometimes.

She wasn't running away. She just didn't want to deal with Riley and what he knew, what he'd seen. She really didn't want to deal with him broadcasting her new "friendship" with Spike to the world. Also, based on what Willow had told her privately at lunch that day, Riley was diving head long into the crazy pool. Like you could get turned into a vampire through sex. _Calls himself a demon hunter. He never spent hours researching- or having friends research. Stupid little man with a stupid little gun, running around, threatening women- threatening Spike._

"Spike?" Buffy called softly. "Spike?" Her dread doubled and tripled. Something didn't feel right to her. Slayer senses tingling- in a new way. Not a good way. It was more than the fact that Spike was there and she could sense him. This was something else, familiar but unfamiliar, still tingling in a bad way, prickling up her spine. "Oh, God." Buffy slid the trapdoor open and looked down. Pitch dark. No candles lit. "Spike?" No response. "Oh, God!" Buffy sprang down with one smooth, yet panicked motion.

Spike stirred in his sleep, but only huddled deeper inside himself. He was empty. Empty without her. I'm nothin' without her, his own voice was tearful and desperate- and confused. Nothin' without her... In his sleep, he reached for her- not sure who the elusive female was, only knowing that again he'd pull an armful of nothing to his chest. Alone.

Buffy knelt on the edge of the bed, in the dark. There was a body on the bed. Not dust. As her eyes adjusted she knew it was Spike, but it still didn't feel right. Buffy's hand hovered over him, scared of what she couldn't see, of why he hadn't woken up when she called his name. But he was alive, or at least, not any more dead than usual.

Spike's arm reached, and Buffy's hand grasped in one of those wonderfully coincidental moments that couldn't be repeated if you tried to arrange it.

Buffy gasped when his fingers clamped around hers.

Spike's eyes shot open and he tugged hard. _Dru!_ He waited for his lips to proclaim it, and instead heard a soft exclamation of "Buffy." It wasn't even a knew she'd be there for him. Something he realized he couldn't say for his dark demoness. His heart deflated and swelled in confusion, loss of something he loved, gaining something he was sure of.

"What's wrong?" Buffy gripped his hand back and let herself roll with him when he pulled. "Spike, something's wrong, why are you down here in the dark in the afternoon? Did you even watch _Passions_?"

"Oh, bloody hell, I'll have to buy one of those soddin' magazines to see what I missed!" Spike groaned. "This day has just gone straight down the fuckin' drain, Slayer. Started good, with you, then come home to find Commando Boy's been all over my home, an' now I missed _Passions_. Next I get to see if Adam wants to chop me up for parts or just pull my head off." _Not to mention you invade my dreams. You creep into the empty space wherein she dwelt._

Buffy jerked back as if scalded. "Riley? Here? _Inside_ here?"

"Everywhere. Didn't find the bedroom, though. Didn't put any drugs in my blood, no bombs or booby traps about. _This_ time." Spike muttered bitterly.

Buffy's grip became convulsive. "What if he'd been waiting for you in here?"

"He was. You don't pay attention, do you?" Spike's dark brows drew together and he frowned at her. "Just so happens he didn't wait long enough." He pushed himself into a sitting position. He didn't stay up for long. Buffy's grip on his hand spread to his body, arms locking frantically. "Easy! Easy, Luv, you'll do the job for him if you don't let up." Spike warned, ribs creaking.

"You can't get hurt because of me. Not- not like that. Not by him. He doesn't have the right to hurt anyone I care about." She said fiercely, shuddering slightly. _Oh God... it would hurt. It would hurt so bad if she lost Spike- the intimacy, the understanding, the comfort, even the annoying and snarking and stupidity. To have it suddenly ripped away... no._ "No right to touch someone I care about."

Spike said nothing, dumbfounded by her intensity. And to find himself holding her tight, swaying slightly. Holding her like he'd hold Dru in one of her fits. _Dammit! Compared her to Dru again. Why? Why the bloody hell should I care if she cares? My heart has grown a bulge in it... an' now this stupid teenage bint is climbing into it...She's not effulgent. But sometimes she seems to glow. She's sunshine...bathed in it, fights in the moonlight. She's pure light, this one. Why should something so dark reach for something so bright?_

"Tell me what you know." Buffy became brisk.

"That might take a few decades, Pet." Spike quipped.

"This is serious! He can kill you and you can't even punch him!" Buffy shook him.

"I know. Thought you liked that. Thought you wanted that. My penance for evil, yeah?"

"Yeah, well, good and evil died last night, didn't they?" Buffy snapped. "Right now, you're on the killing Adam team, and Riley's on the stupid vendetta against one non-threatening monster in particular team. And, hellacious as it is, I'm more worried about you." She sighed deeply and angrily. "Remember, everything is all murky and shades of grayish?"

"An' I told you to hold on to me,'cause I can see so well in the dark." Spike whispered, and pulled her closer. Buffy let out a sniffle on his shoulder and held him to her anxious heart. "Didn't see_ this_ comin', gotta say." He murmured in an awed tone.

"No. Don't say. Don't say anything." Buffy hurriedly whispered and gave him a desperate kiss.

Spike sighed and responded to her as though he'd been waiting for hours to do just that. Maybe he had. The thought angered him more than he'd care to admit, and he was eager to listen to her advice, to shut down his mind. To hang on in the darkness.

In the dark, they tangled, hard and fast, clothes undone just enough to give them the bare minimum of access. All nicety was dispensed with in their sudden desperation to silence what they were afraid of, afraid to say, afraid to think. Hungry. Like lovers. Like those in love...

Spike had a final coherent thought before the animal took over and ravaged, that it was better to be silent, and revel in the darkness, than ever admit such a thought crossed his mind,

Buffy hammered into him as he plowed into her. _Better not to say anything, never say anything. Don't give it a name, just hold on to him, in this darkness._

* * *

><p>Willow and Tara walked arm in arm in the gathering darkness, mounting the stairs to Giles' flat. "Are you nervous?" Willow asked.<p>

"I- I think so." Tara laughed uncertainly, voice high and tight, ending in a hiccup.

"We're going to be in the back. Away from the big scary dude. Those are more Slayer-friendly situations."

"But - b-but we're going to go find him. Shouldn't we wait for him to find us?"

"If Buffy doesn't find him now, when he does find her, she won't know what to do. There's no book on him, on his strengths and weaknesses, like there are with other demons. He's not any one thing, so she kinda has to figure him out herself. I never, ever thought I'd hear myself say this- but I'm glad she has Spike going in with her."

* * *

><p>"We have to figure out what to do about Spike's problem before we can go deal with Adam." Buffy said firmly when all the Scoobies had assembled. Giles stopped in the midst of filling his weaponry bag, and the rest of the occupants of the room froze in various positions, expressions ranging from puzzlement to near hostility.<p>

"You make it sound like I'm one of your bloody little charity cases!" Spike groaned. "I'm not helpless!"

"You are, and you are." Buffy hissed.

"I can fix all his problems real fast." Xander raised his hand and pointed to the selection of weapons they were grabbing. "Hold still, Spike..."

"Very funny." Spike snorted at him.

"Buffy, could this wait? We do have rather a more pressing problem." Giles shouldered his bag.

"Slayer-" Spike wanted to end the discussion, didn't like the way they were talking anyway. He had his pride-not as much as he had before he'd run afoul of Sunnyhell, but some.

"Spike,_ please_!" Buffy's voice was angry and anguished sounding, a combination that froze her friends a second time.

"What's the p-problem?" Tara asked timidly.

"Buffy's ex. Layin' in wait for me in the crypt." Spike said nonchalantly, looking out the window, not at any of them. Once he would've gutted all of them, and now he was reduced to saying he couldn't even help himself against one puny little human. He refused to say another word or look at them. He wouldn't beg for help. Well- not this second...

"Prick." Anya said vehemently.

"I can't believe I liked that guy so much." Xander sounded disgusted, with himself and Riley. "And I can't believe him wanting to kill Spike is making me reverse that decision. More. For the love of God, what's wrong with me!"

"Xander, chill." Willow hushed her best friend. "It's slimy. And, yeah, Spike's evil and totally stake worthy-"

"Thanks, Red."

"-but he's helping us and Riley's kinda insane right now." Willow's face squished up. "Does sane evil win over insane good guy?" She asked worriedly.

"Yes!" Spike cast his vote. "It's not fair, him bein' able to fight an' me not."

"Since when have you ever dealt in fair, Spike?" Xander rolled his eyes. "You probably attacked plenty of helpless people before."

"Yeah, I did, an' I'd probably do it again.I'm the_ bad_ guy. Temporarily indisposed." Spike snarled. "You're the good guys, _you're_ supposed to be all about fair."

"Spike's been helping us, we're going to help him." Buffy cut through the the back and forth with a flash of fury in her eyes. "Riley knows Spike can't hurt any humans, but he doesn't care. He's stalking him, and he's stalking me."

Spike spoke up quickly, before anyone could delve further into that badness. "I'm not sayin' I don't deserve a damn good killin', alright?" He looked particularly at Xander. "I do, accordin' to you lot, anyway. I jus' want to keep him from ambushin' me under my own roof." He turned his eyes to Tara an' Willow. "Can you two cook me up a little 'de-invite'? An anti-human for the vamp?"

"There are spells to bar evil forces from human homes." Giles said musingly. "Your crypt is technically on hallowed ground and no living human resides there. It won't work as it does with humans and vampires."

"But there has to be something to at least keep one human out." Buffy gave her mentor her best pleading stare.

"I think we'd need a human." Giles informed her gently.

"Um- we could could use the h-human part of Spike's aura to do a simple 'bar thy enemy'." Tara put forth, nervous to overstep Mr. Giles', no, just Giles' now, authority.

"Bar thy enemy? That's rather archaic, and not very powerful." Giles said doubtfully, but looked impressed nonetheless. "You- you study the old ways?"

"My mother, from her grandmother, you know. It-it passes down." Tara said humbly.

"Yay for whatever you inherited Tara, but doesn't that mean Spike could block any enemy? Including us? 'Cause we're not exactly buddies, but sometimes we go in there, sometimes we _have_ to go in there." Xander pointed out worriedly.

"Bar thy enemy only works on one person at a time. Like Giles said, it's old, not especially powerful. And each time it has to be cast for the different enemy. If you ever needed to get to Spike, just take a friend. He can't bar both of you at once." Tara explained.

"So, won't Riley just bring a friend, too?" Anya asked.

"No." Buffy and Willow were both certain.

"His ideas are too crazy." Willow shook her head.

"It's too personal." Buffy mumbled.

"Be that as it may- demons can't invoke the old protections." Giles suddenly spotted the glaring flaw.

"Spike can. Maybe most vamps can't, but he could." Willow grinned proudly at Tara, her teacher in all things auric. "Spike's human aura is as strong as his demon power."

"That's not possible." Giles didn't sound harsh, merely incredulous.

Spike, on the other hand, sounded outraged. "You take that back right now!" He demanded. "I'm a soddin' vampire, an' I don't have a bloody broody soul, like-" He caught a flash of pain on Buffy's face and concluded, "like a human."

"Not a soul, a human aura. You still have one. Most vampires do. Yours is just really strong. Probably because you c-control your demon a lot." Tara backed up closer to Willow as she spoke, suddenly not sure that was exactly true, the way he was glaring at her.

"Probably because you still had a really strong human trait." Buffy murmured, sidling beside him, speaking in an undertone. "Love. You didn't lose that."

"I don't know why you're mad," Anya slumped back on the couch, in an attitude of boredom and impatience, "your aura thingy means you can ask Riley to stay out and not kill you in your sleep."

Spike opened his mouth to retort- and then closed it. "Good point." He finally said. "So- wiccas, when can you hook me up?"

"How about after we all live through Adam-fighting tonight?" Willow asked. "Aren't we supposed to find him before he moves to a new place, or makes a move, or something movement related?"

"I need a casting stone anyway, and something to draw the circle." Tara said. "We-we'd have to do it at your house. Crypt."

"I'll go with you." Buffy said quickly, knowing Tara didn't seem thrilled at the idea of going there.

"Me, too." Willow spoke up.

"I'm free." Giles didn't like the idea of the three girls entering the vampire's home, harmless or not, slowly changing to be more friendly and less hostile or not.

"Oh, lovely. I'll stock up on party mix an' we'll have a great big 'bar thy enemy' festival. Can we go kill something now?" Spike shrugged himself deeper into his duster and shoved himself past Buffy and out the door.

"That's Spike for 'thank you'." Buffy sighed, and grabbed her armful of broadswords and axes before following him.

"That boy needs some serious people skill help." Xander muttered.

Willow smiled a secretive, half- knowing grin. "Maybe he's getting it." She took Tara's hand and they left as well.

* * *

><p>"Get to your left! To your left, your left! Your <em>other<em> left you stupid, blonde bitch!" Spike screamed at Buffy.

"So much for people skills." Willow muttered, standing back on the outside edge of the clearing surrounding Adam's cave. She still held Tara's hand, but now she held Giles' as well, making a protective shell around the five bystanders to this fight.

"Quiet, I'm trying to analyze this!" Giles hissed, eyes locked on Adam.

"Slayer, are you determined to die? Get to your _left_!" Spike pushed himself off the ground from where he'd landed after one of Adam's powerful punches.

"I hear you, but kinda busy!" Buffy shouted back. The two of them had Adam between them. They also had half a dozen minor fractures between them.

"Put your fucking sword through his fucking throat!" Spike hollered, making a violent lunge at Adam.

Adam, on the other hand, moved easily and deliberately, a mildly interested expression on his patchwork face. "Do you require an actual broken bone to stop the assault?" He inquired. "I can do that." He caught Buffy's wrist in his fist and squeezed.

"Oi! Broken bones don't stop her, I've tried!" Spike slammed one of his boots into the base of Adam's spine.

"Why do you fight together? You've tried to kill one another in the past." Adam released Buffy to take a single step forward, only slightly jarred by Spike's kick.

"Probably will in the future, too!" Buffy dropped back, rubbing her wrist. "We just really, really hate science projects who kill people!"

"I'm all right with the killing bit, it's this mad scientist crap you've got goin' on. There's a rumor you're lonely, an' you don't jus' want a bride of Frankenstein, you want a town full of little Adams." Spike found himself on the ground yet again, watching Buffy retrieve one of her broken swords. The beast was near impenetrable.

"Some of us can't create biological hybrids. As you two should know." Adam moved neatly in time to catch the broken blade in his leathery chest, earning only a faint scratch.

"Oh, bloody hell." Spike groaned and pushed himself to his feet yet again.

* * *

><p>"Did the Big Ugly just hint about those two making little vampire-human combos?" Xander asked angrily.<p>

"That was the hint, yeah." Anya nodded.

"Okay, I'm goin' in."

"Don't be stupid!" Anya grabbed him back by his sleeve. "A master vampire and the _Slayer_ can't even make him fall down, what are you gonna do?"

"Get killed, but look damn manly doing it." Xander admitted nervously.

"I prefer you alive and more wussy, okay, Honey?" Anya said firmly.

"All of you stop your infernal chattering so I can focus!" Giles ordered. "And stay still! Before he-"

"Notices us?" Willow squeaked. In the foreground, red eyes suddenly swiveled, zoomed and locked on her. "Guys? Guys!"

"Shit!" Xander gasped."Guess who's got long range vision programmed in?"

"Back up, back up, back up!" Anya whispered frantically.

"Yes, that's a- a good idea. Just- out of his eye line. Move. Now, please!" Giles herded his charges along briskly, looking back anxiously at Buffy, oddly relieved she had Spike to assist her.

* * *

><p>"You bring friends to watch your periphery, assist when you can't defeat a foe." Adam nodded. "That's a valid strategy. An asset." He moved forward towards the group in the clearance.<p>

"It's worked so far." Buffy made two impressive spin kicks in quick succession, one to the head, one to the metal plate on his chest. Spike came at him from behind in unison, and for once the monster seemed to feel some discomfort. Of course, running into Adam was the equivalent of smashing into a brick wall, so they both fell back again, off balance.

Adam seemed shocked that he'd felt anything, and looked slightly annoyed, a new emotion, a new facial expression for him."Time to liquefy those assets, Slayer. I don't like unquantified variables in my equations." He told her grimly.

"This isn't math, and those are people. And if you threaten them again I'm going to kick _your_ 'assets'." Buffy growled, charging in once more.

"She banters. She's one of the best I've ever seen, really, an' I've been around." Spike praised, wiping blood off his lip, hurling a broken ax blade neatly at Adam's a sudden "shick!" a metal guard appeared on his arm and deflected it. "Balls." Spike hissed. "Slayer, we're not gettin' anywhere!"

* * *

><p>Giles had arrived at the same conclusion. "Bloody hell!" He suddenly sprang from his crouch, and rushed forward.<p>

"Wait! Wait, whoa!" Willow clutched at his arm. "Stay in the circle, you said stay in the circle!"

"Yeah, if I can't go be stupid and manly, you can't either!" Xander helped haul him back.

"No, I have to stop it before he prolongs it another minute!" Giles cursed his own stupidity. "Adam seems to be testing them, finding out their weaknesses as much as they're finding out his! He doesn't want to kill them, he's constantly deflecting them."

"Well, why not just kill them? He seems like he could do it pretty easily." Anya pointed out.

"I don't know why, I just know what he's doing. Now let me go, or so help me, I'll thrash the pair of you!"

* * *

><p>"You know- I think we've learned all we're gonna learn, Pet." Spike panted, even though he didn't breathe, he knew he had some cracked ribs and it made moving and speaking strained.<p>

"You think?" Buffy dragged herself up and went after Adam's slow-gaited figure again. "He's not getting my friends!"

"No, of course he's not." Spike sighed and groaned. "But we've done our job. We know you can't bloody well hurt him with stakes, crossbows, swords, and axes. Fists and feet don't even slow him down, so what the hell else do you need to know?"

"How to get him away from Giles and everyone else!"

"Oh. You bloody noble types..." Spike turned and ran in the opposite direction. "Oi! You, bits an' bobs! Yeah, you- I'm gonna go smash up your lab. Mess up your equations! Play about with your variables!" He taunted loudly, fleeing into the cave.

Adam snorted like a bull pawing the ground, and turned sharply, reversing. He threw Buffy away from him as he passed, slamming her into a tree. "I have decided my race shall have no sense of whimsy." Adam mused and headed after Spike, leaving the semi-conscious girl crumpled under a pine.

* * *

><p>Giles gasped when he reached the clearing and saw her. His eyes narrowed angrily when he didn't see Spike. His lips thinned as he ran to the fallen girl, pulling her into his arms. "Buffy? Buffy!"<p>

"I'm fine. Spike- led Adam away from you... I have to get up. Gotta help him. I have to get up!" She struggled away and winced. "Owie! God, I really hate this guy! I'm going to dismantle him and -and other hurty things." She winced again. "As soon as I have a nice long soak in a tub of Icy Hot."

"You're injured, we need to get you away. Spike can look after himself." Giles disagreed with her plan.

"So can I, but he didn't leave me." _Not this time. He doesn't do that anymore. I won't do that to him either._ Buffy shoved Giles' arms from her, and used the tree trunk to get up. "I'm gonna go get Spike, you get everyone else away. He wants to liquefy you! That might be literal, or- or figurative, but it's better to be safe." Buffy tugged her hair nervously out of her eyes and set off towards the cave.

She'd only gone a few steps before something black and trailing smoke came rushing towards her. "Tip for the future- he's real proud of his surveillance systems! Oh, an' they tend to spark a bit when you hurl 'em at his lab equipment."

"You made it!" Buffy sounded joyful, and seized his hand, joining him in his run. "Who knew? Annoyance saves the day! C'mon, let's get out of here!"

"Where the hell'd you think I was goin'?" He ran, not letting go of her hand. "Didn't ask to leave, did I? Never said goodbye."

"Damn straight!" She laughed, in spite of the pain, and the bad situation, the danger. He made her laugh. _I guess he really _is_ my friend._ "Giles! Make with fleeing the scene!"

Giles sped along, trying to resist the urge to stop and remove his glasses. _The one time I'm not concussed during a battle, and I feel as though I'm hallucinating. Buffy and Spike are bloody and bruised, but they're laughing and jesting, holding hands as they leave a battlefield. Oh, good Lord... holding hands!_

* * *

><p>"Okay... so- we know what <em>won't<em> kill him." Buffy said cheerfully as the group reconvened, heading hurriedly to the relative safety of campus.

"Yes, and he knows what slows you down now, too. He was studying you as much as you were studying him." Giles said concernedly.

"We had to risk it though." Buffy panted out, looking around the group for support. "It's hard to kill something you don't have any info on and you've only had a sketchy encounter with. C'mon, I thought you were all about me being more cautious, doing my research and recon-a-search- thing." Buffy faltered at the end, meeting the worried faces of her friends.

"I prefer the headlong rush myself, but the hard ones you gotta watch for a bit." Spike wiped his nose with the back of his hand and sniffed in, checking for blood. "Watched you for weeks." He jerked his head to Buffy.

"And you still failed. What does that say?" Buffy put her hands on her hips.

"It doesn't help your case, Buff." Xander said with a half smile.

"Oh." Buffy's face fell.

Spike interrupted "Yeah, it does. Just 'cause Slayer an' I made a few deals-"

"Got your ass kicked a few times..." Xander muttered under the guise of a cough.

"Could we talk about this someplace inside?" Willow squeaked out.

"With reinforced steel doors would be good." Tara added, looking nervously over her shoulder.

"He won't be comin' for a bit." Spike said with false confidence. "Made a hell of a mess for him... he'll be sweepin' up for an hour."

"Be that as it may, we'll reconvene after Buffy gets some rest." Giles said firmly. "You've seen what won't work on Adam, and you summed it up rather neatly. We're going to require something unusually powerful in the weapons department, possibly something stronger than even two slayers- or one and three quarter slayers." He gave a nod to Spike as they moved along as a pack.

"Rocket launcher?" Anya suggested. "I've heard that worked really well with another big, unkillable demon."

"Walsh built him. She would have built him to be virtually indestructible, from the army's perspective." Giles muttered.

"Buffy's not regulation." Xander teased.

"Yeah, if we just had a couple more of me, we'd be peachy." Buffy laughed, trying not to limp, trying not to sound like it hurt to breathe. As the adrenaline wore off, the pains came back.

"We'll work on it tomorrow."

"An' my crypt, thank you very much. The least you can do for gettin' me beaten to a bloody mess an' near immolated."

"We'll be there at sundown, I promise." Willow assured.

"Yes, that's the plan." Giles sighed deeply. "We'll be there. In the meantime- I think we should all get to our respective indoors. Xander, Anya, your car is -"

"Parked right by yours, G-Man. C'mon, we'll walk each other over, safety in numbers."

Giles, Anya, and Xander left, and Tara and Willow drifted slowly with Buffy and Spike until they reached the center of the common. "My stop." Spike said abruptly. "See you tomorrow, spells at the ready." He nodded and walked away, coat floating about him as he swaggered into the night.

"I'm going to go make sure Riley - well- you know." Buffy says awkwardly.

"But what about you? Do you want us to go with you?" Tara spoke up.

"Oh, no. I can handle Riley. So sayeth two broken jaws in two weeks. Ready to make it three if I have to." She said with put on brightness.

"Buffy-" Willow began.

"Wills. I can handle it. You guys get home safe." Buffy waved and followed Spike's path.

* * *

><p>"Ah-ah-ah no, you don't, Slayer." Spike sensed her before he heard her. He turned sharply and marched up to her. "Go on, back to your beddy-bye."<p>

"But I said I'd be over." Buffy reminded him, still walking resolutely past him, in the direction of the graveyard.

"Not on. You're hurtin'." He tried to block her again.

"Yeah, so are you." Buffy looked at his bruised cheek and notice the stiff way he held himself, favoring a rib or two, she guessed.

"You're jus' doin' this so the Soldiers Boys don't grab me, I know."

"That's part of it, sure. I'd think as bad as you're hurt you wouldn't mind."

"Blood'll sort me, fixes almost as fast as it absorbs. Fix faster if it were human, but what I can get at the butcher will work." Spike sighed.

"Then let's get to the butcher's and then your crypt." Buffy offered.

"Compromise. You can come with me to the butcher if you want, then- if you want- we go to your room."

Buffy nodded and then shook her head. "Willow..." She reminded him.

Spike spoke vehemently. "I don't care if she's there or not, we don't always have to be on each other like a hawk on a rabbit!" _Oh, sod it. Listen to me. _Keeping the cover story of just sex had fallen days ago, but he didn't have to make it so obvious, did he? He gave himself an angry jolt inside his mind.

Buffy considered his statement. "Who's the hawk?" She finally pouted at him.

He rolled his eyes. "Both of us, alright, Slayer? We'll take it in turns."

Buffy paused before blurting, "Don't try to treat me like I'm fragile. I hate that. I'm a girl, but I'm strong, okay?" She wouldn't be patronized, she'd had enough of that, from her mom, from Riley, even from Angel. Spike might sometimes treat her like she was dumb, but never like she was weak. Even after all the times she showed him that she was.

Spike thought of a thousand vile things he could say, to point out that right now, she wasn't so high and mighty. Nothing seemed so eloquent- or stupid- as what he decided to do.

Spike whirled, hurting himself as he did so, and landed a solid, but not overly hard punch on her shoulder.

Buffy cried out in pain and surprise, and Spike roared, head thrown back, both hands clutching. "Spike!" She had the frightening realization that she was equally pissed off with him for hurting her as for hurting himself. "You idiot!"

Spike groaned at her, still in the throes of the shock. "You're not weak, but your shoulder feels like a nice piece of filet mignon. Shouldn't be _that_ tender. That bastard's strong." He took a deep, unneeded breath, and then tried reasoning, although God knew it was probably lost on her. "Look, your dorm has heat and hot water, and you ought to keep that muscle warm if you want it to heal fast. You're human. You're Miss Almighty Powerful, but you've still got a human body. Now- are you gonna walk with me to get the car, get some blood, an' let me run you home- or are you gonna practice your martyr act?"

Buffy sealed her lips and kept walking with him, her silence code for accepting but not liking, or not admitting he was right.

"So... how do you know what punching filet mignon feels like?" She finally spoke as they neared the street near Restfield where Spike's car was parked that night. "Do you do some kind of _Rocky_ training in the local meat locker?"

"I love that movie. Only the first two though."

"Oh, God, I know! What's with beating a plot to death?"

"It's so rare to get one good sequel, let alone two."

"What about _Star Wars_?"

"Now, see that was written as a trilogy to begin with so- hey. What do you know about _Star Wars_?"

"I hang with Xander, remember?"

"Now, _Lord of the Rings_, that was originally written as one book. That's more our line. More my time period, too."

"Not all of us are ancient, Spike." She smiled sweetly.

"Not all of us think life began in the eighties, Slayer." He smiled back, nastily.

"At least I don't look like I'm still there, Bleach Boy."

"What is it with you and my hair!" Spike cried loudly.

Buffy laughed loudly, and leaned against him. In spite of himself, he chuckled along, their laughter out of place in the dark world surrounding them.

* * *

><p>Adam stood in the darkness of the cave, once lit with the electronic glow of computers, monitors, and equipment of various kinds. He had the debris cleared away, and mentally calculated what he needed to replace.<p>

"What happened?" One of his followers had entered the chamber and stood staring in surprise.

"The Slayer and Spike decided to come here. We fought, not in earnest, merely gauging our opponents for the coming battle."

"What happened to the lab? It's- trashed."

"Spike loves destruction and mayhem. He'll be useful in the final collection." Adam moved forward in the darkness, heading to the sealed partition between his lair and the Initiative's secret 314 laboratory. Not the lab the soldiers guarded now, the lab they didn't realize was even there. His personal lab, one Mother had procured for his use. Of course, she'd imagined it would be for_ her_ use. Well- she would still get to use the facility during the coming days, in her new form.

"The final collection is going to be sooner than I thought. Statistically speaking, the Slayer is more likely to defeat us, and the addition of her friends increases her likelihood of doing so. Better to move swiftly."

"But don't you need the equipment up and running? And don't you need some cyborg parts for when we upgrade, to be strong like you?" The lackey asked, believing, as so many of them did, that they'd be alive and stronger at the end of the coming battle, instead of nameless scraps of body parts.

"Yes. We'll have to procure some new pieces. Things are moving faster than I thought."

* * *

><p>"I thought you said Red'd be here." Spike crept into the darkened room, carrying a paper bag full of quart jars.<p>

"I kinda thought so, too. She's been at Tara's every night..." Buffy gave a self-pitying pout and then bit her lip to take it away. "Well, I guess it's hawk and rabbit time."

Spike gave her a feral grin and kissed her hard- but both of them winced. "How about a ten minute delay, Slayer?" Spike shoved two jars in the microwave and began heating up his blood.

"Sounds good. Shower again?" She caught sight of her mussed hair, with bits of leaves and pine needles stuck in it, and yelped. "I look like Cave Buffy! Conditioner! Conditioner!" She scrambled out of the room in a flash, leaving Spike laughing after her.

* * *

><p>Once alone, Spike drank his blood in hungry gulps, both batches, and put the rest in the fridge to pick up before he left. And since he didn't know how long that would be- he stretched, feeling his bones mending already- he decided to grab a hot shower as well. For all his tough talk about nothing mattering in terms of heat and hot water, he had his preferences. He liked things warm- preferably hot. His food, his water, his bed, his women. Yes. Shameful as it was, he preferred the hot, moist depths of Buffy's body to those slick, cool walls of Drusilla's.<p>

"Don't think like that." He scolded was strictly a physical preference, he reminded himself. He found a towel, shaking his head in disbelief that he and Buffy were now practically at home in each other's dwellings, familiar with where most things were. "What a joke..."

* * *

><p>"Are you making a joke?" Buffy asked, huddling in her bathrobe.<p>

"Nope. You move like a rusty gate, an' I was genuinely offerin' to fix you. But if you like walkin' like someone's ninety year old granny that's got an arthritic hip..." Spike kicked back on her bed, wrapped in a towel. "Not my problem."

"What do you even know about massages?" Buffy cautiously sat beside him.

"You eat a couple physio-therapists you learn a few things." He joked.

"Not funny." Buffy smacked his arm, and then rubbed it, when she could feel the tenseness under the skin. "Oh- now who's all old and inflexible?"

"Luv, I could flexible you to death." Spike grinned wickedly. "Look, I've been around over a century, and Dru an' I didn't always get away clean. We got hurt, we learned to look after each other." He swallowed hard. "Forget it. You don't-" He stopped speaking as Buffy slowly undid her robe and dropped it to the point where it only covered her hips. She was facing away from him now, and her back and sides were a mass of bruises, looking like they were days instead of hours old, but still obvious.

"Oh, Pet..." Spike stopped worrying about his front, how he sounded. "You worried I'll hurt you? I can work 'round the bruises, Luv."

Buffy silently lay down on the bed, stiff and feeling an odd feeling she didn't have a name for. "It doesn't hurt, it's more like an ache." She mumbled dully.

Spike reached past her to the vanilla body lotion he'd found, the thing that had given him the idea of doing something to try to help ease her pain. Not that he should care if she was in pain- he just did.

Buffy jumped when the squirt of lotion hit her naked back, and winced when two cool palms pressed against her sore skin.

"Shhh, easy. Lemme smooth it in. Look after you."

"I- no. You can't." Buffy started to push herself up, but instead, Spike's face came to hers. He lay beside her, their faces turned to each other as they lay flat. He kept one hand on her back, stroking.

"I can't what?" He asked softly.

"You can't look after me."

"I bloody well can." Spike retorted.

"No. No, it's wrong, it's the touch..." She swallowed. "Is this foreplay?"

Spike blinked. "Sure, it can be."

"No, I mean, is that why you're doing it?"

"I was hopin' to make the pain ease up a bit is all." He confessed uncomfortably.

"See? It's- it's a taking care of me touch. You can't- you shouldn't do unless it's part of the sex thing. The making love thing." She babbled, rolling away, and finding he wouldn't let her, he was now chest to chest with her, and his hand was still on her back. "Let me go." She hissed warningly.

"I'm not holdin' you down." Spike blinked at her. "What's goin' on in that head, Slayer?"

Buffy sat up, away from him, his gentle hands. "Letting you touch me like that- it's different."

"It's not for sex. Can it go under the heading of friendship or something?" Spike felt bewildered. He'd touched her sweet pussy, been buried inside it far enough to touch places he knew had never been pried open before, forcing her little grasping walls to receive him in that soft, slick curve that narrowed, where only the deepest penetration could go. But he couldn't rub her back?

"It's not just a friend that's touching me." She whispered. "That's a lover's touch."

"Alright. Fair cop. Thought we_ were_ lovers."

She was speaking, but it was like the soundtrack in her head was flowing out of her mouth, something private for her ears was shared with him. She hadn't realized just how comfortable she'd become. Talking about pain and broken hearts was one thing- talking about this was different. "Sometimes I feel safe with you."

"I won't hurt you." Spike whispered, amazed that he couldn't put a qualifier on it. It was simply true. He wouldn't hurt her. He didn't know if there was a caveat to that declaration anymore or not.

"You could have hurt me that night. In the fraternity."

"Chipped."

"No... you could have made it bad. Emotionally hurt, and you didn't. And don't tell me it's the house's fault, because you've had a lot of time since and you haven't."

"An' this is bad, why?" Spike asked with a slight edge in his voice.

"Because I feel safe. I feel- like you care about me and you want to touch me in a way that no one else ever has. I feel vulnerable, okay?" Her eyes suddenly snapped back into focus, back to him. "It's like the house. I had to let you touch me, but you chose not to make it hurt. When you touch me to take care of me it's that same feeling. Like it's bad, and but you won't make it hurt."

Spike sat up slowly next to her. "I won't make it hurt. I'll keep off the bruises." He tilted her chin to his. "Inside and out."

Buffy kissed him once, but still shook her head. "It's bad."

"There isn't bad in here."

"No... but this is bad."

"Tell me why?" He was surprised that his own voice stayed low and even, that he wasn't teeming with anger and frustration from the little bint.

"Because I feel loved okay? Loved!" She snapped suddenly. "The big L word, and it's not for us, and it's so not for us to share! But if you just touch me- more than a friend, but not for sex, just because you care..." She swallowed. "It's sweet. It's romantic. It's things I should have shared with Angel. And I never will." She bit her lip. "Sometimes I made myself hard on the outside, I told him I was fine, I told him I could never be with him again- just a couple weeks ago, after the Faith thing. I put on a show, but inside-"

"You always thought he'd be back by now?"

"What's wrong with me?" Buffy's face finally crumbled under the effort of two weeks of confusion. Of bodies falling in love, of hearts beginning to heal- and realizing what it meant. She was getting on without him in her life. Because of Spike. Spike was there- and she couldn't ever really love him. If she did- he would never really love her back.

"Plenty of things are wrong with you, Buffy, but feelin' loved isn't one of 'em." Spike finally found his voice, gruff and strained as it was.

"Yes, it is, I-" She shook her head frantically.

Spike stilled it. "Don't make me explain it." He begged. "But you know. Know it'll never be the real thing, don't we? Doesn't mean-" He wiped the tears under her eyes with the ball of his thumb, "doesn't mean we don't feel it. It feels good. It feels bad. It's wrong an' right all mixed up together. But, dammit, don't we just need it sometimes?" His blue eyes flickered desperately.

"I try not to." She whispered.

"We make love. We comfort, we it feels like the cherry's off the sundae. The best part- they took that."

"They did. Spike, they have the love, and we can't get it back." She wiped her hand along his strong, sharply planed face, just in case there were sympathetic tears forming.

"Sometimes it'd be nice to have the feeling, though." Spike tempted.

"No. No, we can't. I don't want to pretend anymore." Buffy insisted.

"What if it's real?" Spike held her gaze.

"What? Are you saying you-"

"No. I wouldn't lie to about that. " Spike swore. "But it's still real. That feeling. Like I worry about you, an' I care if you're sad. I want to make your pain stop an' I wanna make you smile. I reach for you in my sleep." He let his head fall. "I don't know what's wrong with me, either."

"Whatever it is, we both have it." Buffy stroked his hair, and slowly let herself fall back down on the bed with him, both of them bruised and battered- inside and out.

"I miss it too, you know." Spike said after a few moments of silence. "Feelin' loved?" He suddenly glared at her. "If you breathe a word of-"

"I miss being loved, too!" She protested. "It's a secret. We're both big, tough Sunnydale legends, okay? No one ever knows- that it hurts."

"You're a good sort." Spike rubbed their foreheads together softly. "You know how Red and the other one were talking about auras an' what you said?"

"That your human side stayed strong 'cause you know how to love?" Buffy nodded, mentally making a note to tell him off about calling Tara "the other one" when they weren't so emotionally wrapped up.

"That was your take on it, yeah." He sighed. "It's prob'ly true. An' once you have it, you just want it, crave it... miss it like a heartbeat."

"He didn't have a heartbeat." Buffy touched Spike's chest, remembering how oddly comforting the silence had been, how comforting it was.

"Neither did she. But I did once. After a hundred years you get used to the silence, but then you spend time with someone who has one-" Spike touched Buffy's breast where it swelled from her heart, "you remember how it sped up when you were happy. When you were loved. It's steady, an' it's always there, remindin' you. Dru was never all that steady, but when she was there," he twisted his head slowly, "it was so bloody good."

"You two seemed so in love."

"We were." Spike said quietly. "An' so did the two of you."

"We were." Buffy laughed, and rolled abruptly away, face down. "This is stupid. I miss it so much, and you can give me the feeling. Go on. Do it. Make me feel it." Buffy laughed bitterly into the pillow.

Spike had the sudden urge to tell her to stop wishing it was Angel, be glad it was him. He was twice the lover, twice the devotee that Angelus had ever been. "Right." He said stiffly, and moved back to his position of kneeling over her, a whole cauldron of emotion seething at her, for how she could just turn from him and -

"And then I'll do yours next, but I didn't 'eat' anybody, so you're going to have to talk me through it."

Spike's hands landed on her shoulders with an almost ghostly touch, barely there, kneading in silence. "I'm a bad, rude man." He mumbled to himself. She was going to give it back. He should have known. This one gave it back...

"I know that." Buffy yawned and stretched like a cat. "Doesn't mean you can't be loved." She murmured sleepily.

* * *

><p>The massage had started off in a somber, reflective mood, became less somber, but no less reflective. <em>Spike is so easy to talk to. 'Cause you really don't have to worry what you say to him. Right or wrong, he has his opinion and he'll give it to you. You can trade insults, he'll touch me in a good spot- and then we're back to yummy rubbings.<em>

"So this is romantic, huh?" Spike kneed her thighs apart and massaged her legs and rear.

"Yes! And it's about to go back into the naughty sexy category if you don't stop that, Mister."

"Oh, that'd be a shame." Spike slid his finger slowly between her legs, not invading her pussy, just tracing the seam. "More later?"

"After you." Buffy weakly got to her knees. "That is the best post-slayage thing ever." She felt warm and relaxed, ready to fall over like a newborn kitten.

"_The_ best?" Spike gave her a boyish pout as he undid his knotted towel.

Buffy swallowed at the sight of so much masculinity at her disposal. "Second best." She amended.

"Thank you. My manly pride is assuaged." He lay face down and felt her straddling him. "Jus' do what I did to you- but harder."

"Okay." Buffy dug into his smooth white skin.

"Not the enemy! Don't need the full Slayer package!" Spike cried as she squeezed.

"Sorry!" Buffy felt a stab of old guilt- like she wasn't a normal girl and she had to be passive in bed, in her touches. 'Cause she could "break" her boyfriends. She'd thought that was over with Spike...

"You do know that only applies to the injured bits, Luv." Spike chuckled into the pillow. "By tomorrow-" He let the dark, dripping suggestion hang in the air, and was rewarded to feel her hot, moist little package get hotter and wetter as it rested on his leg. He wriggled appreciatively and hummed smugly.

"I have a feeling this isn't in the romantic category for you, you pervert." Buffy teased and lightly slapped his cheek.

"Oooh, Kitten, do it again." He teased back, turning his head so he could purse his lips and give her a saucy wink.

"No!" She giggled, and moved her hands firmly back up to his spine.

"Thought we weren't supposed to do romantic." Spike said after a few moments of purring contentedly at her touch.

"I am so over supposed to. It isn't working out." Buffy sighed. "Besides- you're having too much naughty fun."

"An' that isn't romantic?" He asked in a puzzled voice.

"Well... no. Like- romantic is the deep stuff. Not just for sex. Like Angel used to come to my window." Buffy's voice started to get that faraway tone. "Just to watch me sleep." The tone became very alert suddenly and she added, "Which was so sweet when he wasn't evil, so bad when he was." Buffy winced and rubbed harder as if she could blot out the memory.

Spike snorted, getting these jealous feelings he knew he shouldn't have. "Yeah, that's him. Difference is, I'd have come in." He declared.

Buffy's voice was harsh and critical. "We're not all rutting hogs, Spike."

Oooh, that little bitch. Thought she knew him so well. That he'd only come in for _that_. No, he'd have come in to tell her he loved her eternally, to read her sweet sonnets, to place a goodnight kiss on her lips.

Buffy felt the muscles under her hands tense and backed off just in time to prevent being unseated by his sudden angry rise.

Nostrils flared and skin whiter than white across the lips, Spike let out a stream of angry, hissing words. "You think I can't be with a woman without shaggin' her?" He laughed mockingly. "Lemme tell you somthin', Slayer, somethin' I'm gonna put in our secrets we don't tell ever, to anyone pile." His eyes dared her to open her mouth, and for once, she didn't accept the challenge.

" Dru got attacked in Prague a few years back. Badly attacked, poisoned arrows, fire, holy water everything..." Spike's voice shook in sudden memory, a figure that couldn't be truly dead, because it wasn't dust, a figure that hardly resembled his beloved anymore, charred and stabbed. Buffy's hand instinctively went out to him and he brushed it away. "She couldn't sit up for six weeks after. Could not sit up. Dru! My Dru, couldn't move. An' d'you know what I did? I lay alongside her_ every_. _Single. Day,_ an' every _Single. Hour._ I only went out to hunt down that mob an' bring em back alive, one by one or sometimes a pair. I brought 'em right to the bed for Dru to drink- not that she could hardly swallow, couldn't even raise her fangs..." He let out a little broken noise and then steeled himself. _Remember why you're telling her._ So she'll know what the real love looks like. So she'll stop craving that stupid pale, reflection of love he could give.

"So, bein' some mad, ravin' sex fiend, lookin' for somethin' else to satisfy my carnal urges," he spoke in a voice heavy with sarcasm, "I went for months without doin' anything more physical than holdin' her hand, an' no, I didn't wank, because I was too busy lookin' after her, feedin' her, an' talkin' to her, right beside her. An' that was plenty for me. When she was well enough for the gentle stuff, I was gentle, an' I never pushed her, an'_ that's_ love! Anyone can look from the sidelines, it's real if it's messy an' it hurts, an' you'd go in an' get dirty for her- over, an' over, an' over again. That's_ love_." He finished in a low rasp, and turned his head away from her, wondering why he didn't just leave the room.

Buffy reached out again, tentatively, but he let her touch him. "I didn't mean to bring all that up for you. I was- I guess I was trading barbs, insulting you, but we do that. We go back and forth, we say tons of stuff. It's what we do." She finished lamely.

Spike's snarl was threatening. "Yeah, it's what we do. But _don't_ do it about her, alright?"

"Alright." She whispered. He nodded tersely, but still didn't seem interested in resuming their former intimacy. She looked for some words, some balm to the wound she had made. "I'm sorry, Spike." He blinked once and nodded again. "I get what you mean now. You would have come in- just to be with me. I mean, her. Dru. Whoever." She stammered out. "I guess Angel couldn't trust himself. The temptation."

Spike arched one eyebrow. _Well, well. That's quite the olive branch she's givin' me. I could make her suffer- or I could just take it._ "Well- you are quite the temptation." Spike finally smirked.

Buffy's shoulders relaxed in relief. "Are you going to teach me more massage-y stuff now?"

"Sounds good."

"Are you going to stay?" Buffy asked, as they settled themselves into position again.

"We're wiped, Luv. An' this tends to do the opposite of invigorate me- although- wiggle your bum again an' we might get somewhere."

"You are a pig." Buffy whispered, bending her naked chest to his naked back, pressing her breasts to him. "Wanna know a secret?"

"Spill." Spike arched into her soft little mounds.

"Reach under the bed."

"If I lose a finger..."

"Just trust me!"

Spike swallowed his pithy retort about that unlikely event ever happening, and reached down- hand coming into contact with a soft fluffy object. He brought it forth and looked at it in surprise. "You've got a toy pig. That's the secret?"

"No- the secret is, I think pigs are kinda cute, so sometimes I don't mean 'you're a pig' as a_ total_ insult. Just some." She bit the back of his neck softly and he moaned.

"Slayer..."

"Can't I rub your back, when you're inside me?" Buffy rolled to the side, on her back, legs parted in an invitation.

"You're all broken an' bruised, Luv."

"So are you. I know you can do gentle." She whispered, apology in her eyes.

"I can." He moved on top of her with fractured grace, a limping panther weakly prowling.

It was different. It was flawed and clumsy, and not at all the excellent, passionate, definition of sexual explosion they were used to.

It was some of the best they'd ever had. Slow, and deep, and laughter-filled, massages and kisses mixed with exclamations as they lost balance or bumped sore spots. Comfortable. Loving.

_Because love wouldn't care if things weren't perfect, as long as you were together._ Buffy rocked herself to a gradual climax, half supporting her lover as he held himself above her, keeping his weight off her injured torso. "Hey." She smiled up at him.

"Hey." He smiled down. "Soon?"

"Now!" She grunted out as her eyes widened and then shut. "Ohhh, Spike. So good, so good, Baby."

"Anything for my girl." He grit his teeth and let his own release flood out, thrusts erratic and listing to the side of his uninjured leg. He collapsed on her- catching himself at the last second and throwing himself to the side with an effort.

"Stay?" Buffy asked again.

"Don't think I can move jus' now, anyway." He laughed.

"I'd feel better if you stayed away from Riley-infested areas until we can do that spell thing." Buffy tried to sound calm, even threw in a shrug.

"That was prob'ly my last round for tonight." Spike wanted to be clear.

"Okay. We don't always have to do the pelvic thing, do we?" She smiled lazily. "There's some old sweats- not mine- in the top drawer." Buffy put her robe around her tightly and tugged the covers down.

"Commando Boy's?" Spike looked sick. "I'd rather sleep in my skin, thanks." He pulled on his black tee nonetheless, and had his jeans at arm's length, not really wanting to put them back on over his newly relaxed muscles.

"I don't want to scar Willow for life by the sight of your nudity, okay? Besides..." She wheedled. "Think how bad it would piss him off to know you were wearing them. And why." She got a positively evil smirk on her normally innocent face.

Spike went to the drawer and pulled the pants on with a guffaw. "God, I love it. You devious girl."

"Hey, shades of gray. Maybe naughtiness is sexually transmitted." She teased, rolling her eyes as she made a joke about Riley's far-fetched ideas about "catching" vampirism.

"You're awful." Spike laughed again, and crawled in beside her, mellow, warm, and sated. Three things he hadn't experienced simultaneously in months, in over a year.

"I know, but that's why you love me." Buffy laughed back, the noise clotting in her throat suddenly when she realized what she'd said. Her eyes went comically wide, panic -stricken. "Oh! Oh, not like- I mean- crap! I mean-"

Spike silenced her explanation with a kiss. "You don't mean like Dru. Or Angel."

"No. Not like that." She shook her head.

"Then yeah, Slayer. That's why I love you." He tucked her to his side, strange tightness looming in his chest that nothing to do with mending bones. "Still hate you, mind."

"Mmm, hate you more." Buffy sighed and burrowed into his chest, inhaling the scent of cold concrete and smoke on the black cotton. She fell asleep listening to him chuckling quietly in the dark.

* * *

><p>Willow eased the door open just before dawn. She was going to move over some of her things to Tara's today, so she wouldn't have to keep doing this post-sleepover mad rush in the morning. "Buffy?" She tapped lightly before poking her head in. No response. "Buffy?"<p>

Willow pushed the door open wider, and covered a gasping giggle. Spike and Buffy were curled up on the bed in sweats and a bathrobe, a completely unsexy looking pair if she'd ever seen one. "Everyone needs someone to curl up with after a big battle." She mumbled, smiling.

"Red?" Spike whispered, sitting up slowly.

"Shh!" Willow hushed him.

Spike, fully mended, moved sinuously over Buffy's sleeping form and to Willow's side. "Look, this isn't what-"

"Please. Like I care that you comfort her." Willow shook her head. "I'm the mature one. Usually. About some stuff."

"Comfort her...yes." Spike nodded slowly, feeling his way cautiously. "Her an' I- uh- big battle. Lots of- comfortin'."

"It's okay to admit it." Willow soothed.

"It is?" Spike's brow furrowed. "Admit what, exactly?"

"That you both need someone to talk to right now, and you're friends."

"Right! Yes." Spike nodded quickly. "That's it. We're friends. Who talked."

"Will?" Buffy sat up and took in the sight of Spike and her roommate talking. She yanked her robe closed more securely, and tried to look innocent. "You're up early. Or am I up late?" She asked worriedly.

"I just needed some clothes. I'm keeping some stuff at Tara's. if you're okay with that?" She asked with a hopeful grin.

"Oh, of course, Will! Okay, totally." Buffy gave her heartfelt blessing.

"You don't mind me being gone so much?" Willow bit her lip nervously.

_Now she asks me._ Buffy smiled slightly. "It's cool."

"Maybe sometimes Spike can stay over. Well- you know, after you guys do what you need to do."

Buffy looked mortified and Spike stepped in quickly. "She knows how we've been talking about certain situations." Spike looked at her pointedly.

"Right! We just- talk. Talk and talk. Sometimes it seems like hours of- talking." Buffy wondered if Willow could tell she was blushing, or was it all in her head.

"Hours an' hours." Spike smirked at her from behind Willow, licking his teeth before closing his eyes in a mimicry of sexual bliss.

"See? Buffy, this is great. You two are gonna be fine. Talking about things is the best way to heal." Willow hugged her impulsively.

"Right you are, Red." Spike winked at the blonde as she peered at him over Willow's shoulder, clasped in a stranglehold embrace. "Slayer an' I are gonna have a lot more conversations. Maybe every night this week."

"Yeah! Great." Buffy said, glaring daggers at her cocky friend-slash-enemy-slash-lover. He fluttered his lashes at her and blew her a kiss with a thoroughly lewd smirk. In spite of herself, Buffy smiled, and winked back.

_To be continued..._


	12. Chapter 12

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Now, in my timeline Buffy's already been to LA and had the Faith confrontation with Angel, because it's ambiguous between the Angel S.1 and the Buffy S. 4 episodes when exactly in takes place. Besides, I'm writing, and I played with the events, why not the timeframe, right?_

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, two toe, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21, Dreylin, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XII

Riley's head jerked up for the third time. Even the toughest soldiers could only go on for so long without more than a couple hours sleep. As the sun started to break over the tree line of Sunnydale, the weary man with a mission pulled himself to his feet.

A second fruitless night of laying in wait, taser set to the highest voltage, electrically charged steel netting and black transport bag at the ready- and nothing."Damn." Riley checked his watch and reluctantly started to move away from the crypt, then paused. "Check again." He hissed through his forcibly clenched teeth. He changed course and strode to the crypt for the tenth time since midnight.

Nothing. He hadn't slipped in. Looked like he'd barely put a foot in there. This tactic wasn't working. Tonight he'd be back. As soon as he could slip away, he'd be back, and he'd be ready. If that didn't work... well he'd have to take something that mattered to Spike. Something that mattered as much as anything could matter to a demon. It would be justice._ Spike's already taken that same thing from me._

* * *

><p>Spike paused his car at Restfield's wrought iron gates, broken and dented after years of the undead battling against them. He felt well-rested. Well-shagged, too. His pale lips curved into a smirk.<p>

Still smirking, he rested his hand on the ignition, about to turn the vehicle off, and inhaled the fresh scent of morning, dew, fading night, fading battles. He caught the lingering aroma of freshly taken Slayer instead- her shampoo, her lotion, her skin- her juice. The scent of their coupled essences. His fangs itched to come out at the same time as his groin sent a complaint about the snugness of his jeans. He kicked open the door, angling himself into the shadows while he adjusted his coat to protect his flammable skin, and paused. Another sharp, prolonged whiff- and he frowned.

"Wanker. Fuckin' pillock." Spike crashed back into the seat and jerked the car into reverse. Finn's scent wafted ever so faintly across the grass. He could still be there. He could've been there all night. Maybe he'd have to thank Buffy for being such a stubborn little mule, insisting on him spending the night. Maybe she'd saved his unlife. Wouldn't be the first time. Damn her. Bless her. Neither. Both. "Bloody hell!" Spike pounded his fist into the steering wheel. "Why's she have to make it so confusing? An' what the hell do I do until I can 'bar' the All American Psycho?" It was well and truly daylight now, the dawn completed. He didn't dare go to the crypt, and Willy's wouldn't open until noon.

He could always break into Willy's. It was a demon bar. Demons usually didn't respect laws and niceties such as business hours, but he would in this case. He wanted to remain on some form of civil terms with the barkeep. Willy's was his only source for "earning" cash through poker or getting human blood. It was rare, only when his "supplier" was in town. And it was out of a bottle, not out of a body, but still. Human. Now if Buffy'd ever let him get his fangs out when he was inside her- dammit. Back to the girl. Even in the midst of a potential ambush, his mind strayed back to that little hot blonde. Always, no matter what, back to that girl.

"Well, that's an idea." Spike set the car in the direction of campus.

* * *

><p>"Do you want to come join us for breakfast? Healthy fruits and grains to start the day? I know, it's a radical idea." Willow tempted Buffy with a goofy smile and a pleading hint in her tone.<p>

Buffy laughed and crashed back on her bed, hurriedly closing her legs at the last second, remembering that she wasn't wearing anything under her robe, and not wanting Willow to find out that Spike and nudity were beyond compatible circumstances, they were desirable. "What? No chocolate muffins this time?"

"Well... the cocoa bean is a kind of- vegetable? Maybe?"

"No thanks, Wills. I'll pass." Buffy stretched and yawned. She felt great. Muscles were better than healed, they were resurrected. And she felt less achey inside. _Spike said he- no. He didn't say that. He didn't say- we didn't say anything. Not anything, really._ Still, she was happy about what was almost but not really said, and feeling lazily relaxed and rejuvenated, and totally ready to indulge in the slacking ritual of those who don't have a class until ten thirty.

"Are you sure? I don't want to seem- well- I've been spending a lot of time with Tara lately and I don't want you to think- I don't know... that I'm not here for you."

Buffy swallowed a little bitter thought that Willow had a funny way of 'being there' for her lately. But it wasn't true. Willow had been going through something major, too. They'd still spent time together. Just not through the night. And considering what happened at night lately- Buffy was suddenly okay with that. "I know you'd be here for me more, if I needed you to be." Buffy smiled warmly.

Willow nodded emphatically. "I just know- well- I know that I don't understand what you and Spike went through..."

_No. You really don't. Not in that house, not before, not with love, although maybe you're smarter when it comes to love. At least you're happy._ Buffy shook herself. Willow was still speaking.

"- so I don't mind you needing someone else. As long as I'm still the best friend. Okay?" Willow concluded with a nervous smile.

"Of course. Always." Buffy smiled at the redhead, watching her relax in relief. "You really don't think it's... I don't know... maybe kinda _weird_? Me and Spike talking so much lately?" Buffy ventured to ask, just hoping to get a reading on where her friend thought the two of them were relationship-wise.

"I did, and then I didn't. Like, the whole survivor of the common big nasty, I thought that was going to give you a reason to talk, but I also figured maybe you'd want to avoid him. What with the being a survivor of the -common -big nasty." Willow halted, perplexed. "My reasoning always sounds so much better inside my head than outside of it." She sighed woefully.

"I got it. It could've gone either way, that's what you mean, right?"

"Exactly." Willow nodded eagerly. "And then when Tara and I started to talk more about auras and elemental stuff- you should let her teach you! It's so cool, and you could totally read what your enemy was feeling going into a-"

"Will!" Buffy flung a pillow playfully in her direction. "I promise to take lessons from your awesome girlfriend, but what was the point?" She laughed.

"Oh! Just that you and Spike could be...in sync. Yeah. Aura and power-wise. You have a nice balance. So I thought to myself- well, if their auras could get along, maybe they could get along, too. Especially since Spike isn't like other vampires."

"No. He sure isn't." Buffy reclined on the bed and tried not to think blush-making thoughts.

"Tara says Xander is right, most vampires are just demons walking around, wearing someone's skin, because all their human memories and emotions and stuff fade away when they start letting the demon control them."

"But Spike never lost that one human emotion. Never even gave it a break." Buffy shook her head and spoke with a hint of admiring wistfulness. "Drusilla. In love with her for a hundred and fifteen years. This September."

Willow gave her a quizzical look. "Really? That's pretty- Buffy, what exactly are you guys talking about when you're together?"

Buffy didn't want to betray his secrets, more than she had, so she covered quickly. "Well- you know. That whole thing in the fraternity, it made us talk about- other partners. Spike's only ever loved Drusilla. So with me...musta sucked." She shrugged. _At least, at first._

"But what about Harmony?"

"Oh please!" Buffy snorted. "Harmony was like Riley. You try to be with them so you can pretend you don't miss the love of your-" Buffy's tongue froze abruptly. She turned wide eyes to Willow.

"Buffy..." Willow moved across the small room to sit beside her. "Are- are you still in love with Angel?"

Buffy swallowed. "Are you still in love with Oz?"

Willow blinked. "I'm- I love him. Yeah. In love... I don't think so. Okay, well- a little bit." Willow looked at her pleadingly. "You're always in love with your first love. A little bit. It's the idea... you're finally loved, in love."

Buffy nodded and managed a hoarse whisper. "I know. Some of us never get that again."

"But, you're so young. Sure, you had a bad break up- okay, two bad break ups-"

"Parker. Let's not forget that." She huffed.

"Okay, three really bad things and -"

"Then cosmic slut puppet with a vampire who tried to kill me and most of my friends. In front of my boyfriend, best friends, and Giles." She added with false perkiness.

Willow clamped her mouth shut for a minute. "Wow."

"I know. Wow." Buffy glared into nothingness. "Hello, Hellmouth, bye bye love. Oh, and Slayer. Dying young is on the box."

Willow looked at her with a mournful expression. "I don't know what to do or say when you talk like that." She whispered. "I want to say I can f-fix it. But I can't. I think you're going to live a long time, though. Longer than the other slayers. And there can be someone for you. There _has_ to be someone for you. Maybe he won't be what you thought he'd be, but-"

Buffy held up her hand. "Will- it's okay. I don't want someone else. And I'm not giving up, I'm not going to go around with a 'please shorten my short lifespan' sign around my neck. I just-" She sighed and shrugged with wordless eloquence.

Willow rubbed her back and nodded in silent sympathy. _Poor Buffy. I thought she was moving on. She and Riley seemed so happy, so cute together, and both of them are in the killing evil business. But it's not enough. He was too... normal. So weird. That there could be a 'too' normal. But there was, someone who didn't understand the mystical things, in spite of seeing them all the time. Someone who couldn't see the real Buffy, the girl part and the slayer part. There has to be someone like that..._

"Oi! Delivery." A brusque voice and a hinge rattling thump on the door made both girls gasp.

"Spike?" Buffy's formerly downcast eyes widened in shock. "Spike!" She raced to the door, throwing it open and hauling him in. "What's the matter, are you okay?"

Willow stood by the edge of the bed and watched Buffy's face come alive, worried, but alive.

"Your ex. My place again. Gonna hang out at Willy's until we bar Captain Cardboard. Y'know play a few hands, have a few drinks... pick a few fights." He smirked, and touched her cheek. "Don't look so scared, Slayer."

Buffy leaned slightly into his cool fingertips, eyes pained - and then she remembered Willow was there. "It's not fear, you egomaniac. It's annoyance. Mr. Persistence- at the wrong time- shoving you out of your house- but why are you in mine?"

"Since it's your bloody insane old flame doin' the shovin', I figured I'd darken your doorstep." He snarled. "Least until the bar's open, alright?"

"It's okay, Buffy! He spent the night here." Willow stepped in. "I'm meeting Tara for breakfast, we can get over to the crypt and do that spell earlier."

"No- it's fine." Buffy waved the offer away. "It's fine. Spike- you left your blood in here, and there's a television. Stay for a couple hours, it's probably safer here. Riley wouldn't go charging through dorms in broad daylight- I hope. Besides, Giles will kill us if we do the spell without him."

"Spell! Blood! I mean- food- Tara's waiting for me to help her find a casting stone and get breakfast. I said I wouldn't be too long." She looked guiltily at the two of them. "It's- well- Adam and Riley scared her."

"She seems like a scared little thing to begin with." Spike looked at her.

Willow drew herself up to her full height. "Maybe she has reason to be. Huh? Ever think of that?"

"Whoa, easy Red." Spike held up placating hands. "Smart to be scared in this town."

"She is smart. Smarter than you." Willow said petulantly.

Spike smiled slightly. "Prob'ly. She ended up makin' you happy, didn't she?" Buffy gaped at him and shot him a darting, warning glare.

"We make each other happy." Willow said staunchly.

"Smart. Both of you. Letting yourselves be happy." Spike crossed his arms and looked at the ceiling. "Must be nice."

"Some guys have all the luck." Buffy murmured.

"Some guys have nothin' but the pain." Spike gave her a half smile, which Buffy returned, rolling her eyes.

Willow looked between them. Her own words echoed in her head. _Too normal. Someone who didn't understand the mystical things, in spite of seeing them all the time. Someone who couldn't see the real Buffy, the girl part and the slayer part. There has to be someone like that... There has to be someone for you. Maybe he won't be what you thought he'd be..._ Tara's words, all she'd learned lately. Fire, Water. Dark power, Radiant power. Human aura. Demon aura. Split aura. Only two she'd ever seen. "Oh boy." She whispered under her breath._ I'm not seeing what I'm seeing. I _am_ seeing what I'm seeing and I don't want to. Except- he- he gets her. And hey- not trying to kill her right now. Which may or may not make him a better candidate for Buffy's affections than Riley. It might be nothing. Or a lot. Shoot!_ "Oh geez!" Willow said much more loudly, and earned herself a double stare from the pale vampire and the tanned woman. "I-uh- I uh...Tara's waiting. See you soon. Tonight! Sunset. Okay? Good! Bye!" Willow bolted.

* * *

><p>Buffy looked at Spike. "Crap."<p>

"Which part, Luv? It's all crap. You an' me? Your ex tryin' to kill me? The fact that I need the help of teenagers to defeat a human with all the brains of a plodding ox?"

Buffy plopped down n the bed. "We were supposed to be all secretive."

"Aren't we?" He asked with pretended innocence.

"You suck at subtle." Buffy laughed suddenly.

"Must not need to be too good at it. I'm still standin' aren't I?" He swaggered in front of her slumped form.

"Only cause I haven't dusted you." Buffy reminded him.

"Like I'd let you lay a hand on me if I didn't want you to." He chuckled conceitedly.

Buffy turned limpid eyes to him. "Do you want me to?"

The air suddenly seemed still, like the electrical charge in the sky after a lightening struck. All it needed was a spark to ignite the flame, burn the world away, all the pain and the problems. He opened his mouth to answer, and she licked her bottom lip in anticipation.

Combustion.

Spike lunged forward as she clawed her way up, hungrily devouring. "I always want you to." He panted roughly, and they toppled to the floor.

* * *

><p>Buffy pulled herself off the floor with an effort. She guessed after just one round of soft, sweet, semi-romantic loving last night, that she shouldn't be surprised that they'd just had a manic sex version of a triathlon. Three positions, rounds of passionate, sweet, and a final burst of passionate, rough, battle of strength orgasm that left him on the ground and her lording it over him. Literally. "I'm the one still standing now." She teased.<p>

Spike grabbed her by the back of the knees and she fell across his shoulders with a screeching giggle. "More like the one still flopped over, Pet." He lightly squeezed her cheek in one sinewy hand, earning a knee to the chest. He groaned and fell back. "You fight dirty."

"You love it." She swiveled provocatively above him.

There was that charged silence again. Only this time, no one struck the tinder, nothing ignited. Spike nodded, scowling, and launched himself to his feet. "Gotta get to class, don't you?"

"Yeah. Um. I do." Buffy distractedly looked around the room, finally pinpointing the dresser and heading to it, retrieving panties and a bra. "You don't have to go to Willy's. It's really sunny out." She tossed out carelessly, not looking at him.

"I'll be fine." Spike slowly pulled on his own clothes. "Promise not to get scorched. Promise me if you see Commando Boy, you'll break a rib for me?"

Buffy pursed her lips before nodding tersely. "Something like that, anyway." She muttered.

Spike's arms suddenly encircled her waist and he kissed her softly. "You worryin' over me?"

"Don't flatter yourself." Buffy spat- all the while turning to him. "But off the record- yeah."

"Don't worry." Spike kissed her lips lingeringly, heavily, saying a lot without saying any words. "I won't tell anyone."

* * *

><p>"Don't tell anyone who's not in for the glorious reconstruction. Adam doesn't need anyone to screw things up." A vampire whispered earnestly.<p>

"Is the great day approaching?" A cadaver demon asked in an awed tone.

"It is. Unification." He answered, speaking in tones of wonder. "As soon as he has his supplies."

"What does he need?"

"I'm not sure. I just know tonight is a time of preparation. He said all will be in order after tonight's run."

"You spoke to him?"

"Well- no. Someone I split a co-ed with told me. Poor guy. He's chipped, needs someone to make the kill for him. Sad. But everyone's helping each other out. And he'll get the chip removed. Adam promised all the chipped would be freed. Still, in the meantime, if not for Adam's plan for unity, he'd probably starve to death."

"Or turn on his own kind. Like Spike."The cadaver demon chuckled unpleasantly.

"He was the one. Him and that Slayer. Destroyed the laboratory."

"Why doesn't Adam just kill those two?"

"I don't know. Someone should."

Spike turned the collar of his coat up farther and shrank into the booth in the dark shadows. Buggering idiotic minions Adam had. When you were s'posed to keep stuff confidential, the first rule should be not to talk about it in a bar. 'Specially not a bar where there were lots of evil, unscrupulous patrons. _An' Slayer says I don't do subtle. Sittin' here, sneaky as you please an' just lettin' the information roll in._

"Spike?" A loud voice, a new one, made the pale vampire jump slightly, but it wasn't addressing him.

"Yeah, Spike. William the Bloody. He's the one who trashed Adam's lab, his calculations, and everything. We should find him. Take Adam his ashes. And the Slayer's lifeless body."

"You'd better not. Adam needs those two alive and you'd know it. If you were on the inner circle like me."

Spike risked a peep over his collar. Two vampires now, and the cadaver demon. One of them was a mousey, shrimpy little vampire who was born to be someone's lackey. Apparently Adam had recognized that too.

"You run his errands. That's not inner circle. That's housevamp work." The other vampire mocked.

"Yeah, well, at least I know about the final battle. Spike and that Slayer will be in it. Adam knows they'll come to defeat him, he'll have it all arranged. With her skills and Spike's bloody history- they'll keep the fight going for hours. Adam will have all the choice soldier parts to use on us, plus whatever else they've already harvested, all the best parts of demon-kind. You can't imagine what they're storing. Adam says all we have to do is get control of the place."

Spike tried not to laugh. _Choice soldier parts. So that was the propaganda. 'Join me, get upgraded'. Reckon Adam forgot to mention where all the demon bits were coming from. Can't these blokes figure out anything?_

"So that's why we need to jam the Initiative cells full as we can. Trojan Horse time." The cadaver demon nodded.

"Exactly. And we need to stop engaging the Slayer, in case we injure her and she can't fulfill her part in the great plan. I was worried when I heard about allowing ourselves to be caught, but Adam explained it. Even if some of us fall in battle, we'll be reanimated, part of a glorious whole. Like him. Strong and powerful."

Spike looked around the bar. It was mid afternoon. Most vamps were sleeping, most demons weren't out in the daylight. There were a few scattered humanoid types and Willy. He decided to risk it.

"Excuse me. Could you pass the salt?" Spike asked, standing in the shadows, behind the two vampires.

"We don't have any- errh!" Spike's hand shot out and drew back twice in quick succession as the vampires turned to face him. Two twin dust clouds erupted, and Spike slid the thick wooden stake back in his duster pocket.

"Hey! It's Spike! It's the-"

"Guy you owe money to!" Spike covered the cadaver demon's shout with a louder roar of his own. "No one skips out on me! Bloody wanker, I'll show you who you can stiff!" Spike's switch blade appeared in his hand and drove into the demon's throat. Black sludge flowed from the wound, and the entire body followed it, turning to thick inky, liquid as he dissolved.

"Spike! Spike, you do that again, an' you're barred!" Willy swept out from behind the bar, small frame quivering with anger, setting down a pint glass with a thud. "They hadn't paid their tab!"

"Sorry, Willy." Spike smiled evilly. "I just hate when someone doesn't pay their due." He lit open a cigarette. "He'll mop up easy."

"You know, you keep killin' the guys you play poker with, an' you won't have no guys left to play."

_And if Adam gets his way, I won't have anyone left to play with anyway._ "Good point, Willy. You know, I think you're right. I've been a bad man. Sorry I lost my temper, fellas." He apologized to the three piles on the floor with his most sincere, wide blue-eyed look.

"As long as you learn from it." Willy sighed and started to get the broom.

"Oh I've learned from this." He assured. Then turning away, he muttered darkly, so low only he could hear, "Learned a whole bloody lot. We can't get into that battle or we play right into his hands. If we don't get into it- he'll still slaughter the lot. I've no problem with that- it's what he'll do with the leftovers. Gotta talk to Rupert and Buffy." Spike realized what he'd said. "Fuck it. Turnin' into a white hat. Worse. A 'scooby'. Oi! Willy! Double O- pos and a whiskey chaser."

"Are you gonna be here long?" Willy hissed, slamming a carafe of thick red fluid in front of him, and a shot glass beside it. " 'Cause you ain't good for my business, no offense."

"I'll be gone by sunset. That's when you do your biggest business." Spike didn't look at the skinny human who began to attack the floor with a cleaning rag.

"Why you in here anyway?" Willy huffed. "Ain't you supposed to be in your coffin?"

"Stereotype." Spike muttered. "I've got m'self a bug problem. Exterminators comin' by the crypt after dark.I'll be out of your hair- little as there is- soon." He poured a long swallow of blood into his mouth, eyes glinting gold as he drank. _You might not have too many people in here tonight, little man. Not if Adam's holding a supply raid. Wonder what he's after..._

* * *

><p>"After our last class. Which is now. I just came up to check the machine and find Buffy. We've got everything. No, but we could use a ride home. Okay. Okay. Yes, I got blessed chalk. See you there. Bye, Giles." Willow hung up the phone and turned to Tara. "Buffy must have already headed over."<p>

"She seems really concerned about him. doesn't she?" Tara ventured hesitantly.

"I know." Willow didn't look at her girlfriend, putting the last items for the ritual in her bag and finding her keys.

"What's wr-wrong?" Tara still felt like something might suddenly snap, the dream would crack, and her Willow would be gone. When she got that closed over look- it worried her.

"Do you ever think- maybe- there could be demons who change? Who start to get good? Good-er? Not all the way good, but good enough?" Willow babbled, and started to leave the room.

"G-good demons?" Tara swallowed. "Well- s-some people are only part demon. They- they might have demon blood. B-but they're not bad. They want to be good! They can control it, really!" Tara sounded desperate, urgent.

Willow looked at her with a worried frown. "I don't think Spike could ever be _good_."

Tara flushed. "Oh. Spike. Right, of course, we were talking about him. W-well, he's starting to be Buffy's friend. And he tried to protect us from Adam last night. Running in to his lair, making him leave us alone to chase him. Plus, chipped."

"But if he weren't chipped..." Willow winced.

"He is though. Maybe he gets better, the longer he has to stop acting like a vampire. Like a killer." She said with a timid hopefulness.

"You did say he's got a strong human aura."

"Right. But- why? What's got you talking like this, Sweetie?"

"Oh. Buffy. Sometimes she and Spike seem like- no, it's too weird. She's over bad boys. She told me so."

"He hasn't been too bad to her. Lately. Has he?"

"No. He's been really good to her. I think. Anyway, it's not going to matter. She's still not over Angel. And I don't think he'll ever be over Drusilla." Willow sighed. "Forget I said anything. Just a weird thought."

* * *

><p>"Spike? Spike?" Buffy dropped down to the crypt basement with a whisper. "It's sundown. I thought you were gonna meet us here... Please don't tell me Riley dusted you.<em> I'll<em> dust you, if you let him dust you..."

"Slayer." Spike's voice, cool and amused seeped out of the darkest recesses of the basement level.

"Spike! Were you hiding down here the whole time?" Buffy rushed to him- and wrinkled her nose. "You do _not_ smell pretty."

"Yeah, that happens when you walk the last mile through disused sewer tunnels. Light on the disused." He lit up a cigarette. "Wanna a smoke? Hides the smell."

"No, at least stinky won't kill me, but that will." She poked his ribs, and tried to take the cigarette from his lips, but he was too quick for her, jerking his head from her reach. "No Riley around, and it's sundown. Everyone'll be here soon to make this place stalker-proof."

"Great." Spike sighed, smoke billowing from his nose.

"You better sound grateful, Buster. Casting stones are eight fifty each, and that's with Tara's twenty percent Wicca Group discount." Buffy huffed.

"Not to sound noble an' good, an' all that shit- but my problem with Mr. Green Jeans seems slightly less urgent jus' now. Guess what I overheard today." He arched an eyebrow, speaking ominously, and flicked ash on the stone floor. Buffy leaned forward and he licked his lips involuntarily. "Don't do that, I can't think." He said irritably.

"Do what?" Buffy drew back, offended, hands on hips, bottom lips stuck out as she glared at him.

"That-" he pointed to her chest, "comin' at me, with your little heavin' bosom. Well, not so little." He reached for her soft handfuls.

"Stop that!" Buffy swatted at him. Then paused. "You don't think they're too small?" She suddenly asked. Spike snorted, and then laughed outright. Buffy's swat turned into a punch and he yelped. "You don't have to make fun of me! And not to be a jerk- or yeah- okay, a little bit of a jerk- Drusilla was way bony."

Spike glared. "She was delicately made. Not bony. An' why the hell d'you care what I think? What any other bloke thinks? If the man loves you- then you'd be the most beautiful thing in the world, small, big, or in between."

"Angel- never told me. You know. Physical stuff. Although he _did_ say he'd love me no matter how I looked, even covered with slime."

"That's love." Spike gave her a wan smile, and she stepped into his arms.

"But I'd still like to know."

Spike swallowed. "Think I told you. In that- that first time. But I'm not clear on all of it."

"You hated me then." She pointed out.

"Still hate you." He reminded her.

"Yeah, but you like me now too." She wrinkled her nose in the way he secretly found bloody adorable.

"You want me to rhapsodize 'bout how pretty you are?" Spike asked sarcastically.

"No!" Buffy denied hotly, furiously blushing.

" 'Cause I won't." Spike lipped her ear as he spoke. "They don't make words for someone like you." He bit her jawbone lightly. "Could try to think of some later, if you like."

Buffy felt something flutter inside her. Dark, lusty thoughts, flirty thoughts. Comfortable thoughts. She could give in to them. Spike would never give her that shocked look that - she stopped that train ride to grief right there. "I'd like. Maybe I can give you some inspiration later."

"That's gonna have to wait, Luv. Guess who's doin' some shoppin' tonight." He smirked unpleasantly.

"Adam?" Buffy winced, last night's injuries pretty much healed, but the memory of fighting with the equivalent of an armored car with a humanesque face and a computer instead of a heart still stung.

Spike stayed close to her, inhaling all the delicious, sinful scents of her, and nodded seriously. "Dusted a couple guys at the bar. They said Franken-wannabe is low on supplies. He's havin' himself a little spree, if what they said was true."

"How'd you get them to talk?" Buffy asked, hints of jealousy and admiration warring in her voice.

"I have my ways." Spike replied importantly, earning himself an eye roll. "Subtlety was involved." He hinted.

"Okay, now I know you're lying."

" 'Fraid not, Luv. Not about this. An' not about the other thing I heard. They need us. Both of us. Adam wants us in that battle, his last stand, down an' dirty, front lines."

"Well, Christmas is coming early, because I'm very okay with giving him that." Buffy snapped softly.

"If we do that- we play into his hands."

"If we don't do that- he still kills lots of people." Buffy argued.

"I get that, you cloth-eared cabbage. So-" Spike spoke as if each word were being ripped unwillingly from the back of his throat. "Thought your bookworms might have some ideas on how we kill the bastard with a surgical strike. Or somethin'. Or we could let all the soldier boys burn- nothin' I'd enjoy more. 'Cause I got the location, too, in m' travels today, an' it sounds like Adam plans to get in touch with his roots. Soldier Boys' lab."

Buffy wound her arms impetuously around his neck. "Hey. You can stop wigging now. Thanks for the tip off. Double agent guy."

"I want payin'. Alright?" He took the out she was hinting at.

"Blood. Movies?"

"Blood. No movies." He pawed the back of her jean jacket and cupped her firm cheeks in his palms, pulling her closer. She moaned. He grunted. They exchanged a bewildered look.

He couldn't get enough of her lately. Worse that before. Just in the last day. _'Cause I feel what I don't want to feel. I know it's not real. I know it's never gonna be true- but God, she gives me that feeling._ Harmony couldn't make him feel it, with all her clinging, cloying, mind-numbingly vapid intentions, Dru couldn't keep it steady, couldn't stay with him, not even with all of his devotion, all of the times he tracked her down, fixed her up, and steadied their course. But this girl- even though it wasn't real, she made him feel ...loved. Worrying, wanting, can't keep your hands off each other, caring what the other one feels, and a thousand other nameless small things that crept into his mind lately- it was that feeling. Damn her. Damn her, damn her, damn her. So why the hell did he start nudging her insistently back to the bed?

Buffy dug her hands into his abs, his back, his neck. Finding the scarred skin that would never heal, she scraped her thumb nail on it and made him let out a growling whimper -her name. Power rushed into her. It's one thing when you want what you can't have. It's another thing when you know you're being what someone else wants, and you're hollow inside. With Spike- well, it'd never be real. Not real love, like her and Angel, like him and Dru. But she could feel it- like sense memory. Losing a limb, but still feeling the tingle. Phantom love.

Buffy spiraled back onto the bed, feeling cold hands rip at her waist band, cold air from his open mouth pass her hot skin. Phantom love. Ghost love. Undead, but still alive love. _Don't you dare fall. It's not real. It's only a feeling. Just enjoy the feeling. Get carried away..._

Spike got knocked off the thick mattress with a sudden jolt. Buffy sat bolt upright, grabbing frantically at her jeans and wiping her mouth. "What the bloody hell are you-"

"We better not." Buffy scrambled up.

"I thought we said we -" His face darkened. Tease. Minx. Why couldn't she do this when they had the night off- and some silk scarves and maybe a blindfold?

"Oh, baby. I want to. God, there is not a big enough anti- want pill in this world to make me not want you right now." Buffy helped him up, brushing them down guiltily. "But, everyone is going to show up soon, and no one else knows you have a bedroom down here- let's keep it that way. Why are you down here, anyway?"

"I took the tunnels from the campus to Willy's and back here. Thought Commando Boy didn't know the underground as well as he knew topside. I just got in when you were comin' down the ladder."

"You're pretty smart. For a vampire." Buffy leaned into him, and then jerked herself away with a frustrated noise. "I hope there's something that needs a really good killing." She twitched restlessly and started up the ladder.

"Amen to that. Somethin' big an' messy. Take the edge off."

"As long as it doesn't stain."

"Humans." Spike mumbled, and followed her up.

* * *

><p>"You have to concentrate on the strongest human aspects of your character." Giles informed Spike, holding a battered book of Tara's in his arms. Spike scowled up at him. "Do you want this spell to work or not?" He hissed.<p>

"If it doesn't work because of his bad attitude, he should reimburse you for the supplies." Anya said from her seat on top of a coffin.

Tara looked nervously around her and forced herself to focus on Willow's calming eyes. She'd never performed magic with an audience. And Mr. Giles- no, just Giles- was holding her great-grandmother's grimoire. She had it memorized and committed to heart by now, but what if he kept saying things, throwing her off? Spike might be the one to suffer. In itself- possibly deserved. In this situation- it would only hurt her friends and her sweet Willow.

"Who invited the delivery boy and his arm candy?" Spike groused.

"This is Scooby business. We don't need an invite." Xander smiled. "Unlike some people. Or un-people..."

"Can I bite him? Would it set off the chip if I had some kind of consent?" Spike looked woefully at Buffy.

"Play nice, children." Giles sighed. "We've more pressing matters to attend to, if Spike's sources are truthful."

"They'd no reason to lie. Didn't know I was listening until it was too late." Spike smirked and tucked himself closer to the blonde spell caster inside the circle, making sure his duster was within the protective chalkline.

"W-we should start if we have to do m-more research and f-find where Adam's getting his supplies." Tara had been glad when they'd arrived, to see Spike and Buffy brimming with plans and strategies and then Giles arrived and then Xander and Anya, and for the better part of an hour, everyone talked and worried and plotted about this raid and about the final battle. It took the pressure off of her. She'd hoped that She, Willow, Buffy, and Spike could just go quietly do the spell in the corner, and no one would even notice her little part in it. Like when she, Willow, and Giles cast the spell at the dorm, holding the poltergeists off. Helpful and behind the scenes. She liked that.

Instead, this time the world halted, and everyone stared at her. She hated that. Her father told her, had always said no one really looked at her. Or her mother. They were trying to "see" the real them. The second skin, he called it. Whatever evil blood tainted them and gave them so much power. He told her he'd always love her, no matter what color the second skin turned out to be when it finally manifested it- as long as she hid it. Stuck close to the house.

For the first time in her life, with Willow and her friends, she thought someone was looking at_ her._ Tara, the girl she was, not whatever she might someday turn into. It scared her almost as much as her father trying to see _under_ her. Funny how she could be so scared, but so happy all at once...

Spike sniffed at her. Little hints of fear dripped off of her. "I won't bite. Can't." He murmured in that whisky husk of a voice. "Don't have to be so scared, Witch."

"Tara." She corrected. Even though her voice quavered, her hands were steady as she set the casting stone in position. Magic was the one thing she knew she could do well. It was the others who didn't know and who she wanted to prove herself to. That she was a Scooby- not just Willow's girlfriend.

Spike watched the steady hands and heard the unsteady voice. Hmm."Tara, then. Tell me what to do for this ancient rite or whatever. I'm not supposed to go starkers am I? 'Cause I object to that with certain people around." He tried to joke, and jerked his head to Xander.

" Y-you just have to repeat words. I'm the one who needs to manipulate the elements. B-but I- I need quiet. I need-"

Spike seized on her hesitancy, following her gaze to a loudly arguing Anya, Xander, and Buffy. Even Willow, sitting alongside her lover, was participating in a heated debate with Giles over the use of crystals versus stones for casting. He loved noise and confusion, best of all violence- but the bird in charge didn't. "Slayer! Could some of your lot go find where he's been hiding? Is it outside in one spot? Does he have a site set up or somethin'?" Spike had already found the likely spot in the thicket of trees, but he wanted the spell to go well- and quiet and peace seemed essential to this nervous one.

"We'll take it. C'mon, Babe." Xander took Anya's hand and walked out. Buffy fell silent, and Giles and Willow refocused. Tara relaxed marginally.

"Thanks." Tara mumbled. Spike shrugged.

"My neck you're savin'. Gotta help."

"Willow, take the third point." Tara motioned her girlfriend to the third symbol on the circle. "Buffy- we need a Fire symbol. You sit across from Spike. You-you balance him."

Spike exchanged a startled glance with Buffy, who wordlessly sat. "I thought I was just going to watch." She said nervously taking her place.

"You were. Then I had this idea about infusing the spell with elemental powers. It's a weak spell, so if we can have elemental boundaries working in Spike's favor, it'll be stronger."

"Mixing elemental magic with the old ways is-" Giles shook his head slightly. "That's dangerous."

"It would be. Except you have all four elements."

"But Spike's demon-"

"It's a Dark power. Buffy's aura is split, too, and she's a Radiant power. They're perfectly harmonized. Right, Baby?" Willow turned to Tara who nodded, and thinned her lips. "Baby?" Tara didn't answer, she was focusing.

"He _harmonizes_ with me?" Buffy demanded.

"Four forces, I entreat you." Tara decided to start now and answer questions later. All four were in place, and that might not happen again without a major effort. "We join hands to form a circle, unbreakable, as no element survives without the others."

Spike twitched and felt his hands grabbed by the witches on either side of him. Buffy jumped, too, not only from the hands joining suddenly, but because a tingle, something like a peppery breeze, whipped around them.

"We hold their power. We place it in the stone." Tara spoke in a hush, just above a whisper. "Earth." She took her hand and placed it on the stone in the middle.

"Air." Willow's hand went fingertip to fingertip with Tara's on the stone. She nodded at Buffy.

"Fire." Buffy said uncertainly and looked for a place to put her hand. Tara guided it underneath the bottom of the stone.

"Water." Spike tried to sound serious yet derisive, and instead sounded strained at best. He joined Slayer's hand under the stone, and looked at her.

He didn't have any air to begin with, but if he had, it'd be sucked from him. There was a current that ran between them as soon as they touched. Buffy's breathing entered pre-orgasm territory, that shallow, hard, ragged sound that turned him to steel. He risked a look at the witches, and he could see it was the same for them. The intensity of the gaze between them could have melted iron.

As one, without speaking, simply knowing, they raised the stone above the floor, streams of power arcing from their bodies to it, only half seen, like stings of mist on a wet day.

Giles, participant in many castings and callings in his day, realized what was happening, and kept silent. There was a reason magic was considered a pagan practice that had nothing to do with worshipping deities or the lack thereof. It was because of the primal nature of it, touching forces no one could see, only feel. Feeling your elemental power, something that resided within everyone, although unknown to most, had to be a rush. Having that feeling suddenly balanced and perfectly completed must be blissful.

Tara's voice was stronger now, and a soft smile played around the edges of her pale pink lips. "Put it back in the center. Gently." They set it down. "Spike- I need you not to vamp until I'm done, okay?"

"Think human-y thoughts." Willow whispered. Giles muttered something behind her and turned away with a shake of his head.

Spike glared and then fixed his eyes on his knees, although through lowered lids, he was actually peering up at Buffy. He could see her looking at him. Could smell her wanting him, almost taste the tang of her skin and her nectar. He let himself think about her only, their sweat slick bodies coupling, face to face, her little gasp of "My sweet Spike, my William."

Tara gasped and seized the moment, before it was gone. Spike's aura did some supernova thing. Whatever he was calling up inside himself made the demonic entity in his aura practically invisible, washed out by a huge, pulsating wave of his human aura, completely eclipsed but for the dark ring around the edge.

"This man, Spike, chooses this dwelling as his home. Protect it, sanctify it. For all seasons and times, bar the one true enemy that he names. Bar thy enemy."

Spike almost missed his cue. Reliving the night she'd bitten him- not because of the vampiric nature of it- but because she knew. She cared enough to give him something he missed so badly. But, back to the moment. "I bar thee, my enemy, Riley Finn."

The casting stone turned an explosive shade of red for a moment. "Hear his request. Bar his one true enemy, so named Riley Finn." The stone flared again, and then went cold. Tara took her hands from Buffy and Spike. "It worked. I think. V-very sure it worked. Your aura- it was amazing, Spike. The spell works on humans, and your aura was v-very human. I'm s-sure it worked."

"I'll owe you one." Spike grinned and stretched back, moving stiffly because of the hard bulge concealed by his coat.

"Tara, can I ask you a few questions?" Giles hovered eagerly behind them once again. Willow and Tara smiled and rose. "That was effortless, beautiful. You're gifted." He told the blonde.

"I don't have Willow's talent. She's s-so quick at it." Tara said modestly.

"Your steadiness and her speed will make you- well, perfectly balanced." Giles smiled between the two. Willow gave him a grateful smile that melted him into the range of getting quite soppy and avuncular. He polished his glasses and held out Tara's book. "Yes. Erm. This page here..."

Buffy rose and brushed chalk traces from her pants, looking at the wiccas. She smiled as Willow and Tara started talking earnestly. They were so cute together.

"Powerful. Both of 'em. Feel safer already." Spike said in a casual tone. Buffy whirled to face him. "What?" He asked as she glared.

"Sneaky." She stuck her tongue out. "But I'm glad you're safe. In here. From Riley."

"Glad my aura did its thing." He chuckled.

"You're good at love." Buffy smiled an spoked in a small voice, just loud enough for him to hear. "Thinking of Dru must've-"

"Who said I thought of Dru?" He halted her.

"Well, trying to get in touch with your humanity, I figured you were thinking of love." Buffy looked anywhere but into those blue eyes. He was Water, huh? She could believe that. He could drown her with a look, sink her with a touch. He was the only thing she'd ever found that made the burning inside stop. Both mentally and physically. No matter what they did lately- it didn't hurt. He didn't make her hurt, even when she talked about the old pains, still plenty powerful.

"Red didn't say think of love, she said to think 'human-y'. Which by the way- what the hell does a smart girl like that need to talk like- "

"Spike. Focus." Buffy cut him off.

"Human. I never loved Dru as a human. She an' I- we were never human together, although love was there. It was dark, and deep, and powerful..." He trailed off in a whisper. "An' decidedly not human at all. Proud of bein' evil, proud of my demon lover- but that won't make the spell work, now will it?" He caught her risking a look at him, and he held her gaze as soon as their eyes met. "So I thought of you." Buffy's jaw dropped slightly. "Why not? You're the only human I've cared about in over a century, the only one I've ever-" He stopped, and broke the bond, looking skyward. "Felt that feeling for. The feeling of it, mind you."

Buffy felt elated and dejected at once. _He was thinking of me. I'm the one he thought of. Oh, man. _I'm_ the one he thought of! That's really serious. That can't be good. And why the hell do I want him to have more than a feeling? Not just a feeling, I want the meaning behind it. I want- I want to stop having this thought. Right now. Bad, bad, bad Buffy._

"Buffy!" Xander returned, Anya following behind, anxiously checking over her shoulder. "We found a spot that has drag marks and all the grass is flat and some of the dirt is turned. Like maybe a person made an all night camping spot with a big heavy bag of vampire catching equipment."

Buffy was jarred back to reality. _The only serious human relationship I've ever had ended with broken jaws and my boyfriend turning into a stalker who wants to start a fun range of demon genetics testing ideas on the undead creep I need in my life. Yippee. That is so not in the slayer manual._ "Let's go. And then we have a raid to stop. I need to kill something." Buffy muttered angrily, and stormed out of the crypt. "Spike, let's stop by the campus and get your car, okay?"

"He's coming?" Xander looked shocked.

"Oh, yeah. Best mates now. Inseparable, we go everywhere together." Spike groused sarcastically. "Slayer! You're payin' for gas!" He hollered after her.

"You're so cheap!"

"I'm not cheap, I'm dead!"

"I'll pay for half!"

Xander and Giles stared after them."That is the_ weirdest_ thing I've ever seen. And I saw my biology teacher turn into a horny praying mantis."

"Strange. The insults, the fighting, they seem- fake." Giles started to walk after his charge.

Anya spoke up in a tone of "I've told you a hundred times", "Well, they've -"

"Don't say it. I know. Bonded. They've bonded." Xander sighed. It sure looked that way...

* * *

><p>"How's it look, Doc?" Riley managed to grunt.<p>

"The bones are bonding together properly. Although I'm afraid you may always have a 'glass jaw' now."

Riley couldn't even scowl properly, jaw half wired shut. He'd pay for that. Buffy might have hit him, but it was the HST that turned her on him. "When am I off the bench, coach?" Riley tried to joke.

"Not this week. And Finn, really. Wear your helmet the next time you patrol."

Riley nodded, eyes closing with a wince. He got off the infirmary bench and headed back to the elevator shaft that'd take him to the house.

Wear a helmet. Sure, that would've protected him on patrol. Only he hadn't been on patrol. He'd been in his bedroom. With the woman he loved. _Had_ loved. His chest twisted painfully. Sometimes, he felt like just letting everything drop. She'd made her choice. It wasn't him. He'd never had a broken heart before, but it would heal. If he could just stop seeing the future he thought they might have had. He had thought- well, he'd thought they'd be together. Protectors of the innocent, slayer and hunter. He'd even thought about a wedding, him in his dress uniform, walking his beautiful blonde bride under the archway of crossed rifles... His chest twisted worse than ever.

Time for his dose. He always had these thoughts right before his mediation. Painful thoughts went with painful body parts, he guessed. Riley hurried to his room, not speaking or looking at anyone he passed in the halls. Once inside, he swallowed two painkillers without a glass of water to help him. He coughed them down and the pain began to lessen almost immediately. So did the heartache. The rage came back.

White wedding ruined. Love stolen. Demon spawn slowly turning that golden angel into some creature of the night. They needed to exterminate them. All of them. Stop the infection before it spreads.

His dark musings were cut short by a burst of static and a crackling voice."Active agents, we need a containment at the J and J Medical Supply Company on Binder Avenue and State Street."

Riley picked up his walkie as it squawked. The sound of heavy footsteps rushing up and down the hall made his rage double. He was confined to the sidelines, and there were people to save, demons to kill. Jerking open the door, he grabbed hold of Gates. "What's going on?"

"Party at the medical supply company, that's all I know. I gotta book, you stayin' here?"

"I'm not off the D.L." Riley spat bitterly. "It's really demons? _Demons_ are attacking a factory?"

"If they want us, must mean demons. What the hell a demon wants medical supplies for though..." Gates shrugged into his backpack and ran off, leaving Riley seething behind him.

* * *

><p>"What kind of supplies would he need?" Giles asked Buffy and Spike.<p>

"Gotta be things I destroyed last night. Computer bits and bobs. Test tubes and things."

"There's a computer factory on the edge of town. Calex, remember?My uncle worked there, and Will had that run in with that computer demon guy- what was his name?"

"Malcolm. But it closed, Xander." Willow pointed out.

"It's abandoned and closed, but it's still there. Standing around with lots of goodies just waiting to be grabbed if you're restocking an evil lab."

"Or building hybrids with computer parts." Buffy looked sickened.

"Oh goody, just what we need, more big hard to kill monsters who can raise their deflector shields or whatever." Anya shivered. "I still think we should use that rocket launcher idea."

"I think we better have one on standby. But firing that in an underground lab or a cave- if that's where Adam is..." Buffy winced and pictured earthquake like damage and cave-ins, "well, I don't really want to take out a couple acres of Sunnydale as well as the bad guy."

"We have to work fast then." Giles said firmly. The group was now standing in the campus lot near Spike's car. "Two fold attack- Tara, Willow, Xander, Anya, you four look in my books. Find spells pertaining to increasing the power of the Slayer, or decreasing the power of a human-demon hybrid. Buffy, Spike, and I will head to Calex."

"I'm going with you." Xander said firmly to Giles. "No, I know I don't have superpowers, but- but neither do you, and I'd feel better if there were at least four of us against the hordes of hell."

"We should come, too. We're getting better at controlling the elements. Oooh! A big wind could blow Adam away."

"Honey- if you put a big drain on Air, you'll have a depletion of Earth. We'll all end up in a hole." Tara pointed out softly. "We're not strong enough to balance them on short notice. Like in a b-battle."

"Fine, you three research, Xander come with us." Giles paled at the thought of Willow accidentally creating a sinkhole.

"It's stupid and dangerous- but I'd rather go with Xander." Anya took his hand possessively.

"Good Lord, how difficult is it to assign seven people to two tasks-"

"Three." Spike suddenly interrupted, jerking his pale blonde head towards a team of six dark figures making a line on the night's horizon.

"Lowell House?" Anya squinted at the direction they had come from.

"Initiative." Buffy nodded.

"And if they're on the move-" Xander hinted ominously.

"Maybe they know where the fight's going down." Spike concluded.

"Alright. All of us are staying together." Buffy made a sudden command decision. "No- I don't care if it's not the best use of time or resources, or whatever. Either we all go someplace together, or everyone but Spike and I go home. We don't know where Adam is- and I'm not loving the idea of any of us running into Riley, either."

Silence reigned for a split second. "My car's back at the cemetery." Xander groaned.

"As is mine." Giles sighed.

"Can't we get a big tie-die van like the real Scoobies?" Willow asked eagerly.

"My car'll fit six. Seven if someone wants ride in the trunk." Spike grinned wickedly.

"I'll sit on Xander's lap. Tara and Willow can snuggle up. We'll all fit." Anya waited impatiently by the door. "Well- are we going or not?"

* * *

><p>Riley slid into his gear, helmet included as much for concealing his face as for protecting it. <em>They can tell me I'm not going anywhere all they want. But I'm going where my men are. Where the demons are. Buffy's obviously not doing her job anymore, now that she's half vamped.<em> With a prayer that he would be given the benefit of the 'above and beyond' reasoning as opposed to the 'disobeying orders' reasoning when they found out about his unscheduled return to active duty- Riley slipped out of his window and followed the movements on his locator. His squad was out there, and he needed to be with them.

* * *

><p>"Calex is on the other side of town, they're heading for the industrial area." Willow said, looking out the open window of the otherwise blacked out car.<p>

"How can you see out of this thing?" Buffy demanded , clutching Spike's arm unthinkingly as they shot around a turn.

"You ask that every time we drive anywhere an' I always tell you the same thing."Spike grumbled, shaking her off.

"Every time you almost drive us into oncoming traffic, that's why!" Buffy yelped.

"I'll make you sit in the back." Spike shushed her warningly.

"You're always trying to get me into the back." Buffy muttered, teasingly. Giles turned to her and gave her an incredulous, aghast stare. "Joking! Gallows humor. Not a funny situation, y'know? Lightening the mood?"

"Kindly make jokes of another nature. I just had dinner, and I don't want it to make a reappearance." Giles said sharply.

"And so say all of us!" Xander chimed in from under his amorous girlfriend, who seemed to equate sitting on his lap with wriggling and groping. And since Willow and Tara- although shy - were sitting together all cuddled up and giggling softly, he was having naughty, naughty thoughts that were making it all too easy to give in to being groped. "No naughty japes in this car."

"Until you're out of it. And don't go gettin' frisky!" Spike reached back and swatted Anya lightly on the arm. "No one does that in my backseat but- OW!" Spike roared. Buffy, worried about what he might let slip, had just gouged him in the leg with her nails. "Easy, you daft bird! I wasn't gonna say -"

"Turn here!" Willow shouted and derailed the conversation neatly. Spike spun the wheel, the tires screeched and smoked and everyone cursed or shouted- and they'd arrived. "Oh. Medical supplies! I get it." Willow looked at the place where they'd landed.

"Adam's gonna start sewin' himself some if he's programmed to be a surgeon or if this is all gonna be for bugger all. With mitts like that you wouldn't think he could even tie a suture let alone reattach an artery." Spike muttered grimly and kicked open the car door.

The building was ringing with the sounds of shouts and broken glass. Figures in black scurried across, guns drawn, and other figures, some human in appearance and others clearly not, were on the loading dock, throwing supplies into a battered box truck.

Buffy came scrambling out behind him, and immediately headed into a defensive crouch. "Everyone else- stay in the car until I give the signal."

"What's the signal?" Giles asked.

"Me screaming." She sighed. She exchanged a look with Spike and they both asked the same question.

"Where is he?"

* * *

><p>"So, where is she?"<p>

_Forty minutes ago..._

Angel stood in front of the Calex plant. Cordelia's vision showed Buffy fighting scores of demons, vampires, and some weird black geared guys in front of a factory. A supply company, she said it was supplies to make creatures- creatures that were part demon, part machine. So the Calex plant seemed like a good place to start.

It was. There were dozens of demons, running everywhere, consulting lists, shouting orders, like they owned the place.

"I don't think you should touch that." Angel grabbed one of them by the collar, springing out of the darkness in time to catch one hefty vampire by surprise, making him drop a circuit board.

"Adam's orders."

"Who the hell is Adam?"

"Kill him! He's not one of us!"

"Oh, I am." Angel vamped. "Unfortunately."

For the next forty minutes, things became very dusty, and Angel was too busy killing and maiming to ask a lot of pertinent questions. It wasn't until he was holding the last vamp standing that he realized what felt wrong. "So, where is she?"

"Who?" The vamp struggled.

"The Slayer. She's fighting you guys, I know she is, so where is she?" Angel felt a surge of fear creep into his heart.

"Not here. I didn't see anyone but you. From the outside." He trembled.

"That doesn't make sense. She's never wrong. She's never wrong." Angel loosened his grip and the vampire tried to break free. "No, no, no. You're gonna tell me exactly what's going on."

"No. I- I give my life for the greater evil." The demon's voice shook, but he remained closed mouth as to any information.

Angel blinked. "Okay... that's a new one. The greater evil. Is that Adam?" No response. "He wants to make some kind of new race? Demon and machine?" Blinking rapidly, but no vocalization. Angel sighed and hoisted the vampire up above his head.

"Look, I respect the whole 'higher purpose' thing, I have one, too. But I can keep you alive for months, maybe years. Torturous years. What do you say we just do it this way instead- you tell me what I want to know, and I let you go. You might even get to warn this Adam guy before I get to him."

"Ha! You can't beat Adam. Not even the Slayer can beat him."

"Really? Why not?"

"He's invincible. He's too touch for any sword to pierce. For any stake to penetrate. He walks in day or night, he is the embodiment of all the glory of the-"

"Geez, dude, I get it! You love him." Angel groaned as the vampire spouted his adoration. "He's awesome. Get him a dozen roses already, just tell me where Buffy is."

"Buffy?"

"The Slayer, to you."

"She wasn't here."

"I can see that, tell me where else she might be. Where else would she be fighting you guys?"

"Well..." The captive vampire deliberated.

"Start talking." Angel smiled maliciously. "I'm asking nice. Don't make me ask you in my angry voice." He winked with a look of unadulterated venom.

Angel's prisoner swallowed as best he could with the fist wrapped around his windpipe. "Well, there were other things the Master needed."

* * *

><p>"Need a little help here!" Buffy shouted to Spike, wrestling with three muscular creatures.<p>

"Jus' coming!" Spike decapitated someone with a neat twist of his hands and jogged over to her. "Where's your boss?" Spike demanded, peeling one of the demon off her with an effort.

"Traitorous scum!"

"Scum, yes, traitorous, no." Spike sighed and tossed him cleanly away, into a blazing dumpster. "Oh fuck! Buffy! Fire!"

"How'd that happen?" She grunted, sliding a short, curved blade into the torso of one of her other attackers.

"Could be the lads with a flame thrower!" Spike yelled and ducked as a geyser of flame brushed past him and dusted three vamps, sending a fourth rolling onto the concrete loading area, shrieking in agony.

"You gotta get out of here." Buffy clutched him as another blast of flame passed by them and more screams rang out.

"We all gotta get out of here. You're not fireproof, either. The army boys can handle this." Spike tugged her behind him.

* * *

><p>Adam emerged slowly from the cab of the box truck. One place no one would look immediately. "She's so predictable now. She's brought her friends." With a slick, metallic whoosh Adam's arm folded back to reveal a sleek, small gun barrel, chamber already rotating and spinning, loading him up with bullets for everyone. "Humans are so inferior. Lacking in complexity. One quick, simple method of extermination suits all of them. So very frail. So very- dead." He took aim at the black car in the distance, his eye telescoping so he could see the four youngsters in the backseat, see the older man in the front, all of them leaning, preparing to spring. The red head murmured and mumbled. "A witch. She casts nets of protection around the Slayer. She'll be first to go..."<p>

* * *

><p>Spike heard the heavy door shut and click. Heard the metallic noise. All of it happening rapidly, why was his body moving so slowly? "Slay-"<p>

Buffy turned when he turned, saw what he saw, and barely had time to scream. "No! NO!" She charged, headlong, into the armored demon.

"DRIVE!" Spike shouted, and hoped Giles heard him.

Adam yanked his arm up at the last second, anger, another unfamiliar emotion blinding him. He must have the Slayer alive. His spray of bullets went straight up, rent the night air and covered her screams.

"Buffy!" Spike shouted and his game face burst forth. "Slayer!"

* * *

><p>Riley, even through the haze of screams and the sputtering blasts of flame packs and tasers, heard the female screams, heard the roar. His helmet was tossed aside in a second, he needed to see clearly, hear everything.<p>

And he wished he hadn't. She was charging. Adam was firing. Bodies were crumpling to the ground, one small and lithe, one large and darkly billowing.

"No! No, you bastard, you bastard, you bastard." Running like he didn't know he could run, Riley charged headlong at Adam, who stood looking down at the forms in utter confusion.

"Why did you save her? Is this the emotion you call love?" Adam asked Spike.

"Piss off." Spike panted, getting up, getting in his face, hauling Buffy out from under him, scraped and scared but uninjured.

"What'd I tell you about my friends? Huh? Huh! Threaten them again, I said, and I'll liquefy you. Pulling a gun out of your arm is a big, big, threat!" Buffy dove at him, even at close range she coiled like taking a long distance dive, using all her muscles, all her agility to try to take him down.

"You can't hurt me. Not much." Adam smiled and didn't even move beyond a small rocking step as she collided with him.

"No- but this had better, 'cause I bloody love that car." Spike said suddenly, and tore Buffy away as headlights lit up the ground behind Adam. With a roll, they cleared the area- just as Giles drove the De Soto into Adam. The monster fell with a startled groan, his weaponed arm pinned under a tire, barrel bent and squeezed shut.

"Bloody hell, I hope he's insured." Spike looked in horror at the severely rumpled hood of his car.

"Are you alright?" Giles opened the door and began to get out.

Adam's eyes snapped open and his hand shot out- the one not trapped by the car.

"Reverse!" Buffy screamed.

"Let him go! Get off him!" Xander and Anya were charging up alongside the car, hands frantically reaching at Giles, who was trying to free his leg from Adam's crushing grip.

Buffy 's mind whirled. Everything was happening at once. Adam after Giles, and the car wouldn't keep him down for long- Xander and Anya were going to get killed, where were Tara and Willow?

"Hostile Seventeen! On the ground! We have an escaped, dangerous HST!" Riley's voice was too muffled for the other soldiers to hear, but Buffy heard it as he advanced, weapon drawn, electrified tip crackling blue.

Buffy looked around, and did something desperate, and probably stupid. _That combo usually works for Spike. Maybe it'll work for me._ "Willow! Do your wind thing! Get the car, get everyone away!"

Willow, a few yards behind Xander, with Tara in tow, nodded and let fear fuel her magic. That was never a good way to do things, never safe, but it always worked. Tara grabbed her hand, anchoring her, as Willow grabbed at the air like she could feel it, pull a piece of it to herself. Her eyes flamed black and Tara was suddenly sure that her lover could do just that. "Air!" She threw her hand up and out- and the car, Giles hanging from it, and Xander and Anya alongside of it, flew backwards and landed with a crash of fenders against the wall of the building. Tara acted quickly and managed to suspend Xander and Anya for a few seconds, slowing them down before they hit the ground.

"Thank God." Buffy breathed- right as Adam sprang up and Riley fired. Spike went down to his knees with a grunt like someone had kicked him in the stomach, which is what the taser probably felt like.

"Buffy! Move!" Willow ran forward and Tara yanked her back.

"No, Sweetie, no!" Tara grabbed the edge of her shirt as Willow struggled to get to her best friend, even in the face of the danger she knew was about to unfold.

Buffy took three running steps away, towards Willow, a question on her lips. She never needed to ask it. A massive creaking sound started in front of her- and spread- under Spike's knees, under Adam's sprawling stance, and Riley's feet- and the earth gave way. "Oh. Right. Big hole. Reeeally big hole."

Spike didn't have any breath to catch, but he had to hold still, quivering from the pain of who knows how many thousand volts slamming around inside him, toes to head, all along his spine. He felt Finn's hand grab his collar and he tried to push him off. At least he thought he'd tried. Turned out his hands were still clutched at his waist. _What a way to go. Protect the house from this pillock, only to get blown to bits by him two hours later. Or taken back to that lab. Wants to see if my juice makes vampires. Wonder if they'll chip me there, or just cut things off..._ He was actually kind of relieved to feel the ground giving away underneath him. Being buried alive wasn't new to him, and it wouldn't kill him... Adam might, though. Spike watched the behemoth disappear into the earth with a thud and lay still as a chunk of the parking lot went down on top of his chest.

He was next, him and Finn. He barely managed to make his feeble arms lock on the edge of the crumbling ground as the rest of him dropped away, into blackness. Beside him, Soldier Boy was hanging on, much better though, since he hadn't been shot seconds before.

Buffy's face was rigid in fear, her stomach suddenly trying to turn into a pool of ice water as she ran, frantically back from where she'd just left.

"Be careful!" Anya shouted.

"Buffy, get something, get rope, don't go any closer to that edge." Giles was running over, limping, one ankle refusing to support his weight.

Buffy ignored them and walked into one of the harder decisions of her life. Riley and Spike were both hanging on to the edge of a rapidly widening hole, and Adam was at the bottom of it._ I have to move fast. I have to get to them. Both of them. I have to reach both of them._ But as she walked faster, the more the ground gave way. She got to her knees, and crept forward, slowly, praying, hardly breathing.

Spike didn't look at her. She wouldn't save him. The fact that he'd just pushed her out of the way of gunfire didn't matter either, because while that might save her life, it wasn't really more than a bloody painful inconvenience to him. He didn't know why he did. Just didn't want her to go out without him, he guessed. Now he was going without her. She wouldn't save him, even if she wanted to. He was evil. He was dead. Riley was an innocent, a human, a mad one, but still. He might be saved. He had a soul.

Well, he'd have liked it to end differently. Not seeing her turn from him. To rescue the man he hated. Who'd hurt them both. For once in his long unlife, he wished he wasn't evil. He wished he'd get to be judged on who he was, not what he was. But it wasn't so, and humans always come before vampires, at least in the slayers' manual. He was her friend, but without that pesky soul, he was never going to be chosen over a man.

* * *

><p>Riley held out his hand to Buffy, watching her snake along the cracking ground to him- and watched her crawl past it. "Buffy!"<p>

"Use your carabiner and your grappling hook." Buffy hissed. "Shoot it into the side of the box truck, it'll hold. But you better be fast."

"You're saving him?"

Spike looked up, in shock, to see a soft, delicate hand, a hand that could lift him above her head if she wanted to do it. A hand reaching for him, locking onto his wrist. "Slayer, you-"

"Shut up, this thing's about to cave." Buffy grunted and pulled. "You're switching to low-fat blood, you're heavy." She gasped and tugged, ignoring Riley's torrent of abuse. "Riley! Use your grappling hook! You don't have a lot of-ahh!" Her words ended with a brief gasp of horror and she skittered back, yanking Spike with her. The earth collapsed as she fell flat on her back, Spike landing on top of her.

Riley's shout rang through the air and she shuddered and clutched the man atop her. They were safe. Riley wasn't. It was her fault. It was all her fault. The shout died and the rumbling of breaking soil continued. The only other sound was Buffy's heaving, terrified breaths.

"Shh. Shh, Baby, I'm sorry." Spike soothed reflexively.

"I had to pick. I didn't have time, and I had to pick. I had to pick!" She said desperately, screaming to the world, eyes suddenly overflowing. "Why do we have to pick, why do we always have to pick?"

"He'll be okay. Look- look, the other soldier boys are already swarming 'round. They'll get him out." Spike helped her up, his strength returning, although when he stood, he staggered and wobbled. Buffy slid underneath him, steadying him. "He'll be okay."

"I had to pick. I had to." Buffy looked up at him, tears trailing down her dirt streaked cheeks.

"You picked me?"

"Duh." She said, and she let out a sob, then a laugh. And she kept laughing, and sobbing, head buried in his chest as he held her tight, looking up into the smoke filled night.

At the edge of the battlefield, the Scoobies stood and watched, some moving forward, attempting to go comfort their friend. "No." Giles ordered softly, watching them embrace, his face a study of inquisitiveness. "No. Let her. Let her let it out."

* * *

><p>Riley choked on a mouthful of grit and struggled out from under the rock covering him from the stomach down. Up above, he could see his men scrambling on the edge, hear them shouting orders, heard the normally upsetting, currently reassuring cry of "Man down!", meaning that they knew he was there, that he'd be saved. At least- saved from the hole. He turned his head slowly to look into the red eye glaring at him in the pitch blackness of the hole.<p>

"Hello, brother." Adam intoned.

"Don't call me brother, you freak." Riley replied automatically.

"Am I such a freak to you? The human chose to save her vampire mate over a fellow human. There is unity coming, brother. Unity coming for all the races, demon and human. Join me. Join me, my brother."

"I will never join you." Riley finally fired his grappling hook- straight at the eye. There was a scream and a splatter. The eye didn't stare at him anymore, but there was still that wheezing shuffle of life coming from that side of the darkness. "And_ stop_ calling me brother."

* * *

><p>"I'm okay. The hysterics have stopped." Buffy wiped her eyes and looked up at Spike. "Come on. Everyone's worried, we have to get out of here before they notice us."<p>

"I think they noticed them noticing us." Spike gestured to their small group standing by his dented car, now parked across the street. "Let's get you back to the mother hen, or father rooster, I s'pose, before he goes off his rocker."

Buffy turned and looked back at the hole, no longer widening, but still impressive. "At least they know he's down there..."

"He's fine. I know." Spike lied.

"You're lying, right?"

"Mostly." He shrugged uncomfortably. "Why'd you do that? You know you've just upped the hate from him. When he gets out, he's gonna take us both, Luv. Probably- probably hurt you worse than I would." He said something he wished he could take back, but it refused to be halted. "You should have saved him. Show you were on the human side, not bein' turned."

"I had to save you, you idiot." She smiled brokenly. "You didn't ask if I wanted you to leave yet."

Spike paused, unsure of how he'd gotten to the point where just a glimpse of those green eyes and lopsided, lost smile could make him turn weak and soft. Finally, he smiled back and put his arm around her, pulling her tight to his side as they walked. "For once, I'm glad you're a prissy little control freak."

"Shut up. But stick around, okay?" Buffy tightened her fingers on Spike's waist.

"It's a promise." Spike kissed the side of her head, lips gently brushing the sweat streaked hair. "C'mon. Let's tie up things with your mates. An' then I owe you a drink for that." Buffy giggled and he chuckled.

* * *

><p>Xander and Giles watched the byplay with a frozen look plastered in place.<p>

"Are you thinking what I'm so afraid that I'm thinking?" Xander hissed.

"I'm very much afraid that I am." Giles murmured from the corner of his mouth.

"What do we do?"

"For now? In this mess? Soldiers all about, Willow practically unconscious from such a feat of magic, Tara frantic, Anya about to panic because of her ex-demon status in front of the Initiative troops? Not including the fact we've just ruined Spike's precious sun-proof car and I believe my ankle may be fractured? We're not mentioning a bloody thing. Not tonight. Everyone's alive, and I'm rather pleased about it." He fixed a smile on his face and opened his arms to welcome his Slayer back from the gates of death once again.

_To be continued..._


	13. Chapter 13

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Short, smutty Spuffy that may have a bit of plot tossed in. Please read and review!_

_Author's Note: Now, in my timeline Buffy's already been to LA and had the Faith confrontation with Angel, because it's ambiguous between the Angel S.1 and the Buffy S. 4 episodes when exactly in takes place. Besides, I'm writing, and I played with the events, why not the timeframe, right?_

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21, Dreylin, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XIII

"Tomorrow evening, research party." Giles told his band of helpers as he hobbled to his car.

"Aye, aye." Xander saluted. "Are you sure you don't want us to take you to the hospital?"

"Quite sure. Rest and ice will help." Giles smiled stiffly and eased inside his ancient Citroen. His ankle was swollen to twice the normal size and refusing to support his weight after Adam had tried to crush it in his bare hand. "If it isn't better by morning, I promise I'll go to the emergency room, alright?" He assured Buffy who looked as though she were about to protest.

"Wish they had an ER for cars." Spike ran his hands miserably over his crumpled hood.

"All in a good cause." Xander almost felt sorry for the guy. Aside from the painted over windows, it was a nice vintage ride.

"Even worse." Spike moaned and put his head down on the roof of the De Soto.

"I've already offered to pay for the damages once you find a body shop." Giles sighed.

Spike waved his hand dismissively. "I know a demon run chop shop. Owner owes me favors. Although, if he's caught up in this 'glorious reconstruction" business, I might have to take you up on the offer. He won't want to touch the car that ran over Adam."

"That was really selfless, you know." Tara helped Willow in the backseat of Xander's car, the red head being woozy but proud of herself after her impressive control of an element. "You told Giles to drive."

"I meant away, to safety, not into the bastard with indestructible legs." Spike rolled his eyes.

"Hey, it was either the car getting mangled or us. I'm okay with outcome." Buffy patted the hood. She wouldn't say anything until they were alone, but she was sorry for him, sorry for herself. This car was special now. It was the site of sexual renewal, laughter, long night drives, beginnings of friendship, arguments, secret sneak outs, and rescue missions. And that was in a few weeks. To Spike, it must feel a hundred times worse. He'd had this car for years. She managed to let her fingers brush his as she withdrew her hand, and knew from the answering twitch that he understood her silent gesture of support.

"Yeah, all things considered, I s'pose I prefer this outcome, too." Spike shrugged and sighed.

"He's going to be really mad at the two of you if he gets out of that hole." Anya climbed into the front seat next to Xander.

"I wonder if the troops contained him. I wonder if Riley-" Buffy stopped and looked down. "Well, I guess we'll find out soon enough."

An uncomfortable silence overtook the group. "Do you need a lift back to the dorms? I'm playing taxi." Xander tried to lighten the suddenly dark mood.

"I'll be fine. Not ready to go in yet." Buffy muttered dully.

"I'll give her a lift in a few." Spike volunteered, surprised at how naturally he offered, and even more surprised when no one made any snide remarks.

"Tara- you'll take Willow with you? Make sure she's okay?" Buffy jerked herself out of her musings, out of her morbid wonderings about if she'd just killed another man she had cared for, sent him to his death, like she'd done with Angel. Willow wasn't well, her head lolled back against Xander's seat, goofy smile and fluttering eyelids making her look high or drunk, not magically depleted.

"I know everything there is to know about rest and recuperation after a big spell. My mother taught me a lot. Essence of tansy root, chamomile tea, and lots of sleep. I'll t-take care of her." Tara assured.

"I know you will." Buffy shared a knowing smile with the newest member of the gang. "Take care of yourselves- all of you."

"Same to you." Xander hugged her briefly and started the car.

"Do be careful. And take your own advice." Giles tapped his horn once and spluttered and clanked off on his way.

* * *

><p>In a second, Spike and Buffy were left standing alone in the side street behind Restfield, where Giles and Xander had parked hours ago, coming to see Tara to do the simple spell. Funny how that had been the original goal for the night, and it had turned into some life or death battle that left Adam and Riley in the bottom of a pit, and Spike's car dented and maimed.<p>

"I am really sorry about the car." Buffy whispered into the starry, still air.

"Sacrifice. There's way less of it when you're evil, you know." He sighed bitterly.

"I know. Boy, do I know. It's enough to make you consider switching sides sometimes." Buffy looked up at the sky. "You don't usually have to choose between saving your ex or your- your lover."

"No. 'Cause you usually don't have both. You usually don't have much of anything." Spike said firmly, lighting up a smoke, and inhaling.

"Sounds like you think about switching sides yourself, sometimes." Buffy mentioned, struck by the severity of his tone, like he was warning her not to come over to the dark side, like she would lose more than she already had.

"Nope. Never thought of that." _Until tonight. Until I thought I'd have to watch you pick the bad man over the less bad vamp._

"No... No, I guess you wouldn't have to. You already had to choose. You had to choose lots of times." She smiled sadly at him. "You always had Drusilla. Being evil didn't mean you were alone, not like the other vampires. So you didn't lose anything." She mused.

"Not right away, anyway. I had- everything. With her. Had it all... Once upon a time, in a dark little fairytale that didn't have a happy endin'." He had started out wistful and ended up bitter, voice crackling harshly in the still street.

Buffy reached a tentative hand for his arm. "You know what we need?"

"A swift blow to the head?" Spike muttered. "Put us out of our misery for a few hours?"

"Exactly. The misery part- not the head part." She clarified hastily. Spike gave her a ghost of a smile. She felt a twitch in between her thighs. God, he was sexy. Even miserable and bruised- he was so hot. Those heavy lidded, introspective dark blue eyes, that smirk, those cheekbones, and the - the _everything_. She struggled back to vocalization. "We need to get that drink, and we need to give this car a big thank you. The backseat." She hinted.

Spike felt himself go from miserable to aroused in a fraction of a second. "Gonna give the car a little lovin', is that what you're suggestin'?"

"Well, I suck at body work- on cars anyway." She licked her lips seductively. "But some bleached blonde told me my body work on _him_ was pretty damn good."

Spike groaned softly. "Bloody hell, Slayer..."

"Feel better, Baby?" She purred, surprised at the amount of sexual affection she was showing him before they were actually doing the deed. _I guess we're getting closer. We saved each other's lives tonight. Whoa. Heavy concept. He was going to take a bullet for me. I chose him over Riley. I guess closer is an understatement._

"Startin' to." He gathered her in his arms, kissing her with less heat then he'd planned, but with no less intensity. "I'll make you feel better, too, Luv. Think after our drink, an' the backseat revisited, we can take things nice an' slow... we can go to your room, if you want. Got my healin' hands, ready for action." He rubbed a small circle on her back and she moaned happily.

"Massage, yes, my room, no." She disagreed.

"But-"

"Believe it or not-" she licked her lips hesitantly, "I think I prefer your place tonight." His mouth popped open in protest and she closed it gently, with a smile. "Bigger bed. Lots more candles. Way more soundproof. Way less chance of being disturbed when we-" She felt a rush of longing and affection overwhelming her, and she gave in, whispering in his ear, "when we make love. Try new things."

"Try new things." Spike's hardness had a meteoric rise and strained his seams. "What d'you want to try?"

"I don't know. But if you're willing to take a bullet for me, I guess I can let you pick the activity." She murmured hesitantly.

"You noticed." Spike beamed at her, looking younger and happier all the sudden as his face lit up.

"Kind of hard to miss the being tackled to the ground." She chuckled.

"But- I dunno. Figured you wouldn't put too much in that, seein' as it wouldn't kill me."

"No... but it would kill_ me_." She responded seriously. "So yeah, I noticed. Just because you weren't dying, doesn't mean you weren't saving me." She stroked his face, thumb crossing the darkened hollows under his eyes, bruises forming on pallid skin. "I guess I was wrong about evil not making sacrifices."

He swallowed, leaning into her soft, warm touch. So gentle. He hadn't had gentle- in so long. The big bad shouldn't want gentle. It was that stupid poet who still shared a body with him that wanted to feel heat and softness and love. His first time had been as a cold, dead creature of night, with blood and biting and howling as the demon took control of him. Oh, they'd slowed down after the first time, passionate and sweet and long hours of lovemaking. But the William side always felt cheated. Until this girl came along and gave both halves of him something he craved.

"It wasn't evil makin' the sacrifice." He whispered, lips just touching hers. _It was love_. Buffy made a small, heartbroken sound and kissed him hungrily, desperately, hands in his hair, one leg wrapping around his. He kissed her back, falling against the frame of the car, sighing heavily. _She knows. She knows why I did it. An' we'll never tell._

"William." A ragged whisper as she started clawing his shirt from his pants.

"Sweet girl."

"Forget the drink. I don't need a drink anymore, do you?"

"No... but I want some other things." He panted into her throat, tongue swirling heavily on overheated flesh.

"What, baby, tell me what you want. Tell me." She asked urgently, hands kneading and caressing. T_his is how it's supposed to feel. This amazing yearning and wanting and loving, oh, God, so bad, but yes, loving, loving each other, maybe not in love with each other, but you're not scared and you're not sad, and it feels so good to be with him... I_ncoherent thoughts jumbled around her brain, right and wrong and shades of gray, and none of it mattering as long as he was there too, in the same confusion.

It had been a lifetime, an unlifetime, of waiting until someone asked after his wants with such desperation. Dru was wonderful, passionate, wild, sweet... but_ he_ was the one who was desperate. She'd made herself a playmate, thinking to find a lover modeled after Angelus and Darla's completely superficial relationship. He'd made himself believe she wanted something deep and immortal, eternal love. He'd fought to become the embodiment of that, to be her prince, and she'd let him. But she hadn't wanted it _for_ him.

"I want- that massage stuff, whatever it was we used the other night. An' I want music, an' I want you to wear somethin' you like. Somethin' soft an' silky, that makes you feel like you're the most beautiful girl in the world. 'Cause you are." She stared up at him in disbelief. "Told you I would tell you later, didn't I? It's later." He winked.

Buffy's heart fluttered in a new way that was completely foreign to her. Romantic, planned, lovemaking. Not sudden overwhelming passion. Not sweet, explosive lovemaking. _Why is the one I hate the one who knows how to love? Really love, like you read about in romance novels? Probably because unlike Angel, who had a couple centuries of either going full tilt with a woman he never loved or being a monk didn't have the right kind of experience or the right- well, no. They just hadn't had the chance. If he ever came back, if he was ever cured, they'd do it like this. Just like this, even without the cure. Without the full experience. Because even just this much was amazing. In the meantime..._ "You got it. Give me a lift?" She murmured, flushing, heart racing. She felt like she was waiting to have her first time, even though the circumstances were all wrong, the excitement was still the same.

"Absolutely." Spike got into the front seat of the battered vehicle and she slid in beside him, scooted right against him. He pulled her close with one arm, and they rode towards her room, just a short detour before a night of healing all the old wounds.

* * *

><p>"I'll be a couple minutes, I know I have a battery operated radio somewhere, and I have a nightie- buried someplace." She laughed with a hint of self-mocking. "Not something usually in the slayer wardrobe. I don't think it ever saw the light of day- or night."<p>

"Oooh, aren't I special then." Spike purred.

"Yeah. You are." Buffy told him with quiet seriousness.

His face sobered immediately. "You an' I've gotten awfully close, awfully fast. You do see that, don't you?" He didn't know where it was going, but he didn't want to arrive there and find himself alone. _Had too bloody much of bein' alone._

"Well- I mean- it's not such a big deal. Is it?" Buffy asked with a hint of fear in her voice. Spike's face hardened and she rushed to explain. "We're not hurting anyone, and we're not shoving it in anyone's face. And, well- we're kinda screwed in terms of other partners." She looked worried. "Is this the part where you remind me you're evil and tell me you're using me, or not to get too close?"

"No. It's that part where I check and make sure you know what the hell you're doin' so I don't make an ass of myself. More than I already do around you." He gave her a crooked smile, not quite looking at her, just showing his profile.

Buffy considered. "I know what I'm doing. At least- I think I do, I think we both do. That we know things aren't- aren't what we thought they'd be. Didn't stay how we thought it'd stay. But it's not bad. You know the lines not to cross." She finally said, because she couldn't really think of anything else to say to explain how she felt, but warn him not to start thinking that it was going to go anywhere. It could never really go anywhere. And she liked it like that. Having a secret, having something that was hers, no strings attached, no morality and sacred duty to consider. Solid caring and this weird half-loving, semi-affectionate friendship, and bed-breaking orgasmic sex that couldn't hurt either of them physically, and wouldn't end up hurting them emotionally.

"That's the problem with bein' evil, Slayer. Sometimes you see the line, and you walk right over it. Just to be bad."

Buffy gulped down the bundle of excited nerves in her throat. "You know there are things we can't give each other."

"No, I know that." He soothed. "Also know that sometimes I forget. Just for a second. Am I the only one?"

Buffy put her hand lightly on his knee. "No." His head turned slowly to hers. "But you'd better try to remember. I don't want to hurt you. Not like that." She stroked his battered knuckles with her fingertips.

"I still know the one big rule, Luv. Right up there with crosses and holy water on the list of things I don't want to get too close to."_ If you fall in love with her, not that you are, you'll betray everything. Dru'll never come back to you. Angel will never come back to her. You can do anything you want- as long as you don't fall. Or as long as you don't tell her you're falling. Which I'm not. Just - sorta love some stuff about her. maybe even her. Part of her, the non-annoyin' bitch part. Maybe. A bit. In a way that's different. Not like Dru._ Part of his bratty subconscious hinted "Better than Dru?" He ignored it. He was good at ignoring it, had a long time of practice, and gotten a lot more practice in the last week. "You're safe. You're safe with me. From that big, nasty, heartbreaker."

If there was something that would perversely trigger you to start wondering if you could love someone- it was them telling you they would keep you safe from heartbreak. That and telling you they were going to make you feel loved and cherished and you were free to be yourself. And if you loved someone- you wouldn't hurt them. "I won't let you get hurt either. Just good stuff. We've had enough bad. Now- try to be patient, I know it's almost a painful concept, but try. I'll be back in ten." Buffy kissed him teasingly and nudged his ribs as she made a crack about him.

He cracked right back, looking at her with a patronizing smile. "Ten minutes? That'll be when the big hand is on the-"

"Shut up, Spike." She nuzzled her nose to his and smiled into his eyes before running out of the car into her building.

Buffy waved at the group of girls giggling and painting their nails in the lobby and ignored some catcalls from a few guys who felt the need to comment on her battle-fresh appearance, she was focused on one thought only. Get to the room, get the stuff, and get back to Spike. What would they do tonight, for hours and undisturbed hours? Massages were a given. What else lurked in that sinfully delicious mind of his?

Buffy rummaged in her jeans pocket for her keys, head down as she walked to her door.

"Buffy?"

Her head jerked up, and her knees buckled. "Angel?" It couldn't be.

"Yeah. Uh- hi." He tried to smile, but it wavered badly.

She tried to smile back, but it was hard to do when your mouth won't close. It hung open in shock. She'd been waiting for this moment for weeks now, ever since she and Spike started to talk, since she gave up on trying to get over Angel and just accept that sometimes you love the ones who you love, no matter what you ought to do. She was resigned to living with a broken heart- but knew that if he ever came back- she wouldn't waste a second chance. Or a fourth or a tenth. "Angel! What are you-"

"Oh, uh, Cordelia. She had a vision of you fighting more guys than you could handle and I thought maybe you could use a hand."

"Oh. You came up to fight my battles for me?" Buffy pushed the annoyance down. _Great way to start things off. Let's release the inner bitch._ "Sorry. Um- thank you. You look- you like you did some fighting. Did I miss you at the medical supply place? Were you there?" She walked closer, slowly, like if she moved too quickly he'd vanish in a puff of smoke.

"No. No, see I went to this old computer factory first, Calex?'

"We were heading there, and then we got a lead that the action was at the other side of town." Buffy tilted her head interestedly.

"It was both. I showed up there later, but you were gone. But the Calex raid got stopped. Most of it, I think." He looked uncomfortable. "Um- parts of the building are kind of- broken. But I don't think they got too much."

"So you really were helpful." Buffy mused in a more wondering tone than was complimentary. "Sorry. I just- I'm used to doing the battling without you. But there were two fronts tonight and I haven't quite mastered the art of being in two places at once." She beamed up at him. "So you covered one of them for me. Perfect timing."

"Well..." Angel grinned and shrugged, stepping back from her. She was always his weak spot and it was all he could do not to wrap her in his arms. "I- I came up for that, but I also wanted to talk to you about some things. The way we left things- after the Faith fiasco." Buffy's eyes flared suddenly, and he hurriedly continued. "She's in prison. I visited her last week. She told me- more about what happened. I wanted to apologize. I didn't realize how bad things were for you, how badly she hurt you. I'm not saying you were right, but I'm-"

"You're taking my side?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"No. No sides. I'm just sorry. For everything that happened the last time we saw each other."

"That's a good start." She smiled.

"So- can we talk?" Angel gestured to her door.

"Yeah- yeah just- oh! Um, you go in, I have to- talk to someone. Might take a few minutes."

Angel watched her face sadden and stiffen, close over.

"We don't have to talk. I don't want to- I know you said you have someone else you care for now. I don't want to mess things up for you, Buffy." He stepped closer and wrinkled his nose. He sniffed and frowned, and shook his head to clear it. "I never wanted to-"

Buffy cut him off. She didn't want to hear that denial. As if leaving her wasn't the direct opposite of not messing things up for her."I don't have a boyfriend. I broke things off. Actually- I broke his jaw, too. Twice. So, no, not messing things up for me and a -boyfriend." _For me and the best lover I ever had, yeah. But he'll understand. He'll let me go, without any guilt, or any pain. This is what we want, the true love, the lost love, another chance at a happy ending. That's one of the reasons I love him. Or that I could if he wasn't evil, if I wasn't in love with Angel._ "Here. Go on in." She unlocked the door and walked away, in a haze.

_ This won't hurt Spike. Will it? I don't want to. But Angel- I loved him so much, I love him still. I have to try. If things don't work out, well, I'll be back. But it has to work out. He came back. I just have to be honest, play it straight. I promised him that much, and I can do that._ Buffy stiffened her spine and ignored the churning in her stomach, the tightness in her throat, and went out to the man waiting for her. She pretended her eyes didn't prickle when she thought about telling him he'd been waiting for nothing.

* * *

><p>Spike was trying not to give into temptation and rub himself while he waited. He wondered if he still remembered how to do the internal massage he'd read about while he was in India. Wondered if she knew that anal didn't have to be some hardcore, contraband act- not all the time. Wondered if she'd ever know it was something that was actually supposed to be slower and gentler than anything else, that to make it pleasurable was more of an effort, took more time and restraint and was a way of showing just how much you lo- no- cared for someone.<p>

_Stop thinkin' about that. It's too soon and it's not easy for a vanilla girl to give that up. You'd be the first. God, to be her first at something, the way she was his first, first of so many things, first human, first warmth. He could be the one to take and give something incredible and- Oi! Stop thinkin' about that, I just warned you off, you pillock. Not like I'm desperate for that. It was just the thought of her being all slippery between her cheeks from the massage. That was all._

Spike glared into the darkness. If she didn't hurry up, he was gonna be forced to start taking matters into his own hands, literally. Then he saw her pass through the door, walking unsteadily, half running, then walking. He got out of the car at once. Something was wrong with his girl.

"Slayer?"

"Spike. I-" She bit her lip, and put a worried hand to her neck, trying to massage the lump from her throat. "I can't come with you tonight."

Spike blinked. "Something wrong upstairs?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." She looked up at him, and wondered why she didn't feel elated, why she didn't even feel like smiling. "Angel's upstairs. He came to apologize. About the incident we had over Faith a few weeks ago... but he wants to talk."

Spike's mouth responded with innate friendship and loyalty he hadn't thought existed in him. Not anymore, maybe not ever. But she did bring something to the forefront in him, and he heard himself saying something kind instead of the stream of angry protests that tugged at his mind. "Well. Here's your shot then, Slayer."

"Spike, I didn't know he was in town, I swear, I didn't mean to make plans and then-"

He put a hand out, not quite touching her lips. "Shush now. How many of us ever get a second shot? Go take it, take it for both of us." She opened her mouth again, and he spoke over her. He had to speak over her, because if he was quiet, the pain would seep in and he'd feel it. He'd worry her with his affectionate longings, warn her it might not work, do everything but what he would want her to do if Dru came back. So he rattled on overtop of her. "Don't be a fool, don't over think, just do this, right or wrong, go for it."

She nodded, and took the hand hovering in front of her, clutching it to her cheek. "What will you do then?"

"Oh, I have my own work to do. I need to get to Willy's to hear the spin the other demons are putting on tonight's events. Maybe find out what happened to Adam, hear if anyone's got plots for another raid. Maybe they got away with some loot, I can try to find out how much was taken. I'll keep myself busy." He lied. Only partially. He'd go to Willy's. He'd keep his ears open. Then he'd get blind sloshed, falling down, stinking, drunk. But she didn't need to know that.

"You're still helping us?" She whispered, big, tearful eyes melting him into a puddle right there in the parking lot.

"Might as well." He smiled at her bravely, carelessly.

"I- I wanted to tell you. Play it straight. And I'm sorry. 'Cause it's so fast, one minute we were... well, now we're not." She wondered why she was still touching him, still feeling so close to him, wanting more.

"Thanks, Luv. You did good. Just what I asked." He stroked her sunshine hair once more, maybe the last time, maybe not. Never knew with those two, how things would end up. "I'll return the favor." He squared his shoulders. "Can I leave, Slayer?"

A tiny half sob escaped her and she nodded, before she threw herself against him, hands on the back of his head, kissing him hard, longingly, heartbreakingly, trying to figure out why her heart could feel newly broken when it hadn't even been healed in the first place. "Goodbye, Spike. William. I just want to say-"

"Go say it to him, Luv." Spike kissed her back, eyes closed and trembling, but trying not to give into this stupid, entirely unwarranted emotion. He wasn't in love, so why should his heart pain him so? He ignored it as best he could and tasted her deeply one last time. "Goodbye, Buffy." They pulled apart, heads resting together for a few seconds before they found the strength to step away from one another.

She stepped back, watched him slide into the car and drive away, without looking at her. Another half sob escaped her as she turned to head inside again.

_Why aren't I happy? Maybe things won't be perfect, but I know now- I know how you have to grab these second chances. I know I'm love's bitch and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I know right and wrong are dead, and love is all that matters. I can be with him- in someway. Somehow. I'm getting my second chance. I'll make him see. I won't care what anyone says this time._

Buffy marched up the stairs, feeling her happiness growing slightly. But it was not complete. She had a sudden flash of empathy for Willow. _Was this how she felt? I shouldn't feel confused, but I do. No reason to. I'm not choosing. Spike wasn't like Tara, Angel isn't like Oz._

* * *

><p>Angel stood awkwardly still, fighting the urge to gag or rage at what he could smell in this room. Spike's scent. An aroma of sexual activity. It made him crazy, and it made him hard, it made him want Buffy. It made him want to push her away, too. She couldn't have been intimate with Spike. Not the way he thought. He just wouldn't bring it up. They didn't need to talk about relationship stuff. He wouldn't think about her that way. That was not an okay way to think about her, and they both knew that.<p>

Buffy flung the door open and he jumped. He jumped again when she marched over to him, kicking the door shut behind her as she went, and seized him in a feral kiss. Buffy never kissed him like that before, hard and determined and in control. For a split second, it turned him on. Then it rang warning bells.

"Buffy, stop." He shook his head, prying her off.

"No." Buffy shook her head back, frantically and insistently. "I mean, yes, I'll stop the physical stuff, because I know we can't do too much, but I won't stop loving you. I won't stop missing you. And you miss me too, you love me too." She held his long dark coat by the lapels. "You're here. You're finally here with me."

"We agreed- Buffy, we talked, we have to be responsible and mature. You said we needed to just ry to move on, forget, we have too many lives at stake to-" Angel protested, disengaging her hands.

"Yes, too many lives, including _ours!_ Forge the maturity, forget forgetting. We need this, this is love. Love is what makes things worth fighting for, Angel, and I have a lot of fighting left to do, and so do you." She said desperately.

His chin jerked in a spasm of want and need. But he contained himself. That was the reminder. The need. He needed her. The only way he could resist soothing that need was not to be around her. Even if he did love her, did miss her, did think of her every single day. "You know what'll happen if I try to be with you." He reminded her. "You know we can't. We can't be close- and you're close to someone else."

"I told you, broken up, broken jaw." Buffy refused to be dissuaded.

"I meant Spike. I don't want to believe it, but- I can smell him all over this room. I can- taste him on you." He couldn't really taste or smell much over the overwhelmingly needy scent she always projected to him, the frantic calling her senses always gave to his. But it was what put on the brakes, and they needed to stop.

"Spike and I've worked together lately. He was with me tonight. Angel, he saved my life. I don't love him, but yeah- I got 'close' to him." She whispered guiltily. But she was being honest. She wasn't a little girl, she didn't need Angel to treat her like that, to make decisions for her. This was the only way to show him that the scared sixteen year old was gone, that she could be his equal partner now, someone young, but capable of making hard choices, of knowing the consequences and accepting them.

"But- wait, what? He saved you?"

"Yeah."

"He doesn't have a soul."

"No. No, but he knows how to love someone. Really love someone, Angel. And that's all I want."

"Are you in love with him?" Angel asked, aghast.

Buffy shook her head. _Didn't I just tell him that? Can't I ever admire a quality? Whatever._ "No, I'm in love with _you,_ but- you're not here. Or you weren't. Until tonight." She looked at him with pleading eyes.

"No. No, sorry, I don't understand this." Angel was assailed with images. He'd honestly expected her to deny it, or say they hadn't done more than kiss or hug, or something juvenile and easily waved away. Now all he could picture was Buffy, his sweet, innocent virginal girl, impaled on Spike's cock, being perverted and used, scandalized and tormented, turned into something sick and twisted. "You don't love him. But you slept with him?"

"Yes. I did. Not anything long term, but for a couple weeks." She didn't like his tone. Like he'd never had a non-loving sexual encounter before? Except for ONCE, all of his, and all of hers, had been non-loving sexual encounters. You can find meaning in something that's not love. If that's all you can have.

"He's evil." Angel's biting tone recaptured her attention.

"I know that." Buffy winced slightly.

"He's soulless, he's evil, he's a vampire- and have you seen his hair? Who the hell has hair like that?"

"I know all those things." Buffy replied calmly.

"Then why?" He cried, exasperation and anger consuming him suddenly.

Buffy's tone was as bland as his was impassioned. "He knows how not to leave." She looked at him pointedly. "I need that."

Angel's head turned as if smacked across the face. He blinked and swallowed to collect himself. "If Dru comes back, he leaves." He said with deliberate iciness, making her aware of her folly.

Her eyes narrowed. As if that was a negative. "And I'll still know that he knows how to love and to not loves _her,_ not me, he _should_ leave me for her. It's not even like that, it's not even a question of leaving. It's a bout_ being_ with the one you really love. That's all either of us wants, is for you and her to come back. Don't you get that?" She reached for his hair, fingers eager to comfort and stroke away the anger, make him see. "Don't you see that's all that really matters, Angel?"

He closed his hand around hers, pushing them apart. "I get that I can't control myself around you. And I do care for you. But if someone who loves you can't control himself, then neither can he, one slip, one desire big enough... I heard about the chip, I know about that. But if he wants to fight the headache- you'd die."

Buffy's brow furrowed. "He wouldn't hurt me when we're together. Not when we're together. If we were in a fight- well yeah. He'd probably kill me. I'd do the same thing to him." _It'd be hard though. 'Cause I'd miss him. I think he'd miss me, too. Maybe we would let each other go. Maybe. It doesn't matter right now._

Angel clapped a hand to his broad forehead, chocolate eyes turning black with anger at the stupidity of the woman before him. "Listen to yourself! You're sleeping with some vampire, off and on, and yet this is a guy you'd kill?" _Why would you throw away the chance I gave you? Don't you want to be happy?_ Angel stormed in a circle for a minute, trying not to lose control and start roaring and berating. "Is this what you want out of your life?"

She shook her head with cold decisiveness. "No. I wanted _you_."

He sighed, heart stabbed. His voice was heavy and despairing when he looked at those steady, but tear filled eyes. "You know why that can't work."

"I know why you say. Angel, love isn't like that, it is not good or bad, or right or wrong." Buffy explained, her hope taking a hammer blow with every denial he made. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was supposed to want to work for this, too, if he loved her at all, if he loved her at all, wouldn't he at least try to find someway for this to work? "It's just love, it's just meant for the ones who love each other to be together, please-" She would beg, she would grovel, because pride- well pride hadn't worked too well for her before. "I don't need sex, I don't need perfect happiness, I don't even need normal. I only need you!"

Angel rocked back when she crashed back into his arms. He reflexively held her, sighing into her hair, everything in him wanting to give in and say yes, yes, of course. Well, nearly everything. "Buffy... Look at me. You know I'll always love you."

"And that's why we should be together." Buffy met his eyes.

"But love isn't enough. That's a fairytale."

"So? Our lives are already written in dusty volumes of histories and prophecies. We're fairytale creatures. I'll take what they have." Her voice shook with entreaty.

"But there're obstacles, and I'm not the prince. I'm the monster."

"So I can be the wicked witch, I don't care! I don't care, I just want you back. Angel, look, you fought your way out of hell to come back to me- but you can't drive two hours up from LA?"

Angel swallowed. "When I came back from hell, it wasn't only because I loved you- I had to ask your forgiveness."

"I forgave. I forgive." Buffy assured.

"That means a lot to me, but it's not just you. I didn't just hurt you. I have thousands and thousands of gallons of blood on my hands. I can't wash that off. I have to pay for it. Atone for it." His eyes brimmed and his soul stung. "I can't live with what I did to you. And I can't live with knowing that I could do it again."

When he hurt, she hurt. Her hands came up to brush away tears that hadn't yet overflowed from his eyes. "We won't make the same mistakes twice. You can atone from anywhere, and I'll help you." She swallowed. "Unless you think your atonement has to come before your love?"

"It isn't what I want. It's just what is. You agreed with me once. You agreed- that we couldn't go back to the old ways. That we needed to move on. And this is what I need to move on to. Saving my soul. Paying for what I did. Love is a reward. I haven't earned it yet."

"No. No, no, no!" Buffy's foot crashed to the floor in time with her words. "Love is what keeps you going while you fight! Love is what brought you back. Love is what will _always_ bring us back."

"No, that's what brought me back once." Angel's voice was firm. "But reality is different, Buffy. I came back, and you told me you were involved with a nice steady guy. He made you happy, you needed that- and I knew love wasn't enough."

Buffy's mind rewound to a day over a year ago now, when she told the newly resurrected vampire about the high school kid she'd started dating in his absence. Not just in his absence, his death. That she'd sent him to. It hadn't been a deliberate choice to betray his love- it had been the only course of action when your lover was _dead_ and gone. No one expected him to reappear, and when he had- she wished she could take it back. She tried to explain. "Look. You were dead. I killed you. I was going insane with guilt and grief, and you popped back up. You were wild, like an animal, and I was -scared." She confessed brokenly. "Don't you think that every time I think about that conversation, I wish I could swallow it down? That I could've been brave for just a little bit longer? But I wasn't, I was scared of what you'd been, scared you'd never be my Angel again. And I loved _my_ Angel, only my Angel, only you. Ever. All this time." Buffy whispered. "I didn't know if that was you or not when you came back."

"Yeah, well, maybe that was smart. Maybe I wasn't. Maybe I'm not now." Angel looked at the floor, at the wall, anywhere but the suddenly very eloquent woman playing his heart strings like a concert violinist.

"But I know you are, and you will be. I'm not scared anymore. Love conquers fear, Baby... please..." _Please just come home to me. Or let me come home with you. Just let me have the one true love deal and I'll help you atone your ass off, I'll never be scared again, as long as I have you..._

Angel spoke into his chest, because if he spoke looking at that gorgeous face he had fallen for on sight- he wouldn't be able to be strong. "Don't make this harder for me."

"Why? It's this hard for me." Buffy laughed bitterly.

"But, Buffy you're young, you can find a guy- so the first one you met after me wasn't so great, there are lots of-"

She cut him off viciously. "I'm _done_ looking for normal. I'm not normal, and I can't have what I want. So Spike is what I have." She concluded in a constricted tone, life summed up in three easy to follow sentences. So why didn't it seem easy?

"Spike? Spike- Buffy, do you have any idea how many terrible things he's done?" Angel cried.

"About the same amount as you." Buffy sniped, unaccountably irritable about the comment.

" But _I've_ changed, I want to repent, atone, make things right, even though I can't, and he hasn't, Buffy. He's not different, he's just prevented from doing what he wants to do. You can't compare him to me." Angel commanded vehemently.

She choked down the rage to a simmering anger. You can't tell someone what they can and can't think! How Spanish Inquisition was that? "I do and I can. Spike's here, you aren't. He cares enough to stay, you don't." She crossed her arms and glared him down.

It didn't work. Angel glared back, amber flashing under brown. "No, he's _selfish_ enough to stay, _I_ don't want to put you at risk. And if he cared he wouldn't put you at risk either!"

Buffy shook her head at his statement. "Risk, huh? Slayer. Risk is my life. Risk is what it means to be a slayer. I have to take risks, I can't get away from the risks even if I want to, even if I never find another guy again!" She unloosed a tirade at him, swirling around the room, hands spread as she took in the whole world of dangers that invaded her life, robbing it of even the merest chance of being normal. She spun until she was face to face with him again, hands dropping to her sides. "I'm okay with the risk, Angel. It's the leaving part I can't handle." Angry, bitter eyes went soft as she saw his bowed head, his pained eyes looked up at her from under his creased brow. "I'll take the risks any day over leaving, over this pain... Don't you feel it? Can't you feel it?"

"Yes, yes, of course I do -but there's something bigger than us, Buffy." Our missions. Sacred missions of redemption or sacred duties of the Chosen.

Buffy reached for his strong jaw. "I know that. It's called love."

"It's called destiny."He disagreed.

"Can't it be both?"

He shook his head solemnly. "No. Not for me."

The world stopped spinning, the desperation temporarily gone. Coldness filled her. "So, because you're the only one who matters, you make the call, and I live with it. There's no asking for my opinion on the subject that my whole heart is tied up in? There's no discussion?"

"Discussions happen so people can compromise. I don't know how to compromise with you on this." He murmured regretfully.

"Well- I do. We can be together, we can fight evil together. You want to atone, I have my duty. That's fine. We'll work LA and Sunnydale -they're not that far apart. We could get a place in the middle."

It was Angel's turn to spin around the room, arms thrown out as he laughed scornfully. "A place? A place, Buffy, you're nineteen! You're in school, this is no time to be thinking about getting "a place" together."

"There are other schools. There are other- there are other things, Angel." She looked at him, and saw the face was no longer resolute, no longer even stricken. It was almost contemptuous. She could read the look, hear his thoughts as clearly as if he were speaking them. "Pity the poor lovesick teenager, she thinks love is big enough to solve this problem. God forbid I consider commuting to kill my evil or consider making some kind of physical commitment like living together instead of saying I'll love her forever- as long as I'm not actually around her."

Her tone saddened and her face drooped, as it had done all evening, back and forth, back and forth. This time, there was no coming back. "You made up your mind like you did before. Nothing I say is going to bring you back." She whispered. "Not grief, not begging, not honesty, not even compromising like adults. You don't want to change your mind."

Her sweet voice, so broken, so devoid of spark cut him deeply, but he shook his head. "I can't. I want to, but-"

She shook her head furiously. "No. You don't want to. If you wanted to, you would do it." She pushed away from his reaching arms, lips trembling in a grimace as she started to cry. She turned, he turned with her, and she shoved past him, heading for the door.

"Don't leave like this." He begged.

"What do you want, Angel? A kiss goodbye?" She laughed through her tears, a harsh, choking, grating sound, like splinters of grief were caught in her throat. "You think you get that? You didn't give me one. You didn't ever want to see me again. And yet here you come, back to town and get my hopes up." She straightened her spine and controlled the sobbing for a painful moment, looking at him with intensity that was almost poisonous. The look you get when you realize a dream is shattering right in front of you, and no one will lift a hand to help you save it.

"You don't get a kiss goodbye. You don't even get goodbye. It's not good. It's just bye." She left the room without looking back, shutting the door with a final click behind her.

_To be continued..._


	14. Chapter 14

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: Partially explicitly M-rated chapter. You were warned. Skim if you gotta._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Sundance22, Lalabuff, Sweet- T3, Lithium Reaper, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21,Little Missy123, twotoe, MMWillow, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XIV

While Buffy and Angel were beginning their heartfelt discussion in her dorm room, Spike swaggered into Willy's. He listened to the gossip, unobtrusively, as he had done earlier. But his mind was hardly able to focus, barely able to tell one word from another. From the snippets he overheard, he gathered Adam was injured but operable, managed to tunnel himself out with some attachment on his other arm. The raids were a bust up, and all of demon kind was apparently running about like chickens sans heads. Except for those with more pressing issues. Like how to shut up the bloody pain in his chest that had no right to exist.

Willy looked up in surprise when he saw the vampire standing in front of him, haggard, bruised, and covered in bits of grit and dirt. "Hey. What the hell happened to you?"

"Long night. The good stuff. No- the imported stuff, single malt." Spike directed his gaze to the top shelf. Willy nervously got him a shot glass. "No. The bottle." He corrected.

"You gotta pay up front." Willy said warningly, reaching for the bottle. Spike reached into the recesses of his coat and slammed a fistful of notes on the bar top. "Whoa. Okay."

Spike took the Scotch and opened it, drinking unceremoniously straight from the bottle, amber fumes and amber liquid cascading down his throat and numbing the senses slightly. He downed half the bottle before he took a pause. "What?" He demanded of Willy who stood staring at him in fascinated disgust.

"Oh, nothin'. Only I ain't seen you like this in over a year. Drusilla's came to visit, huh? She back?"

Spike stared in silence, jaw flexing. Last time he'd been on a bender like this was when Dru left him. Now Buffy was leavin' him. Good for her. And not like he loved her or anything. Not like he loved Dru. Not the same at all, not at all. So why did it hurt so soddin' much, but without the tears? "No. Dru's not comin' back." Spike mumbled hoarsely and started swigging again, more slowly this time, waiting for that pleasant crash that meant reality was about to be turned off.

_We were gonna make love tonight. Planned it- not much of a plan, but some kind of plan. Made it a date. Made it real. There was gonna be music. I was gonna make her feel good. She was gonna be in my arms, and she was gonna give me whatever I wanted. Maybe that isn't love, but maybe I stopped looking at it the right way. Doesn't matter now, does it? 'Cause even if the Poof runs away from the best gift on earth, someone's undyin', devoted love, she won't run to me after he's done with her. Oh, she might come to me again, someday, but it won't be to "me". Not like it was, like we were happy to see each other. It'll be the absence of him, that's all._

Spike staggered up. "Ta' mate." He addressed Willy.

"Uh- yeah. Ta." Willy regarded him dubiously. "Your car don't look so good Spike. You already been to another bar? You want me to call a cab?"

"Willy." Spike looked at him with shocked eyes. "I'm dead. Fuckin' _dead_. Let 'em breathalyze me, I just take in whatever air's floatin' around and push it back out. Dead lungs. I'd prolly test positive for air pollution before alcohol. Do you think they're gonna take my blood alcohol level? Guess what- no blood, not that's mine." He laughed bitterly. "See, that's the bad thing about bein' a vampire. You can get drunk if you try, but it takes a lot. Gotta dilute all the blood you already drank. In your veins. Not your stomach. Takes a whole lot more than one bottle." Spike eyed the top shelf, where two more bottles like the one he currently clutched stood waiting to do be called to duty. "Three might do it..." He swung over the bar with the grace of a martial artist in spite of his heavy boots and flying coat.

"Spike, you can't take that, put that-" Willy pushed the vampire firmly away, no longer afraid of him since the vampire wasn't able to hurt humans without hurting himself.

Spike's fist connected, lazily loping to the weak chin of the hapless snitch slash barkeep. Willy crashed back with a gasp and cry of pain.

Spike's head seared with an agonizing blaze of electricity. He blinked and tucked the two new bottles under his arm. "Add it to my tab." He muttered and walked out into the night air, not even slowing down.

Spike crashed into his recently battered car, still drinking deeply from the bottle clutched in one fist as he situated the other two bottles beside him on the seat. He was dimly aware of a small twinge of pain in his head, as though he'd bumped it on a low ceiling. He wondered why attacking a human hadn't sent him screaming and doubling over in pain as usual. As if on command, his chest burned and something twisted inside him, reminding him.

He couldn't feel the shock. Not over the pain in his heart.

* * *

><p>Her heart was cracked straight down the middle. She didn't know how she could still be alive. Surely blood couldn't flow through something with so much damage? Buffy paused and wiped her blurred eyes before she started to run again.<p>

As she ran, she continued her vicious cycle of self-berating and mourning. _I was stupid to think I could make him see. He'll never see. It's really over now. You're so stupid. You think just because you suddenly let go of your inhibitions about love, everyone has. You think you could ever get a happy ending? You'll die of a broken heart. At least you're in a cemetery. Short commute._

She halted, gasping wetly, trying not to cry again. She'd run straight to where she should have gone in the first place. She had to take the chance, though. And since it hadn't worked, there was only one person to comfort her.

* * *

><p>Spike blinked blearily as the door to his crypt crashed open and swung shut in a whirl of flying blonde hair and scuffed denim. "Slayer?" His heart gave a surge of hope that he tried to squash.<p>

"Spike!" A wrenching wail and she was in his lap, sobbing messily, sobbing the way you could only sob with your closest friend or your one and only. Gut clutching, head bowing, tears streaming, snuffling sobbing.

"Oh, Pet. Oh, Pet, what'd he do to you?" Spike whispered and held her, rocking her and trying to understand the sobbed words.

"I know you prob-probably don't want to talk to me right- now." She choked out.

"Has that ever mattered?" He tried to joke, but it came out flat, neither of them were in a kidding mood. "Just tell me, Luv."

"S-so miserable." She gasped, trying to sit up. He patted her, gave her the okay to stay crouched and huddled. His hand was on her back, giving her a feeling of warmth even though his palm was cold. "So- so much pain. Feels like- everything's breaking inside."

"I know." He did.

He did know. Hence her coming to him instead of anyone else. "I hate this! It just hurts so bad! So bad, Spike!"

"I know." He did.

Buffy managed to clear her eyes enough to look at him in focus for a moment, gasping through another wave of pain. "He- he always gives me the little bits. He t-told me he'd never leave me. He told me- he'd love me no matter what, he'd always be with me." She shook her head with a desperate look. "But it's not true. It's only things he says, not things he does. But it's nothing to say it. It's not really real. I mean- what good is him loving me and always being there when I need him in a crisis but I can't see him every day? How the hell is that real love when it's only in emergencies? Real love is every day! How is it 'always' if it's only sometimes?" She slammed her clenched fists into his shoulders and then flung her arms more fully around his neck, sobbing into the hollow of his shoulder and knowing it would be okay. She was weak right now, but he'd never tell and he wouldn't care.

"He doesn't know how to love properly. He loves with his big noble soul. It's gotta come from the heart." Spike reasoned softly, more to himself than to her. "Shuts himself off from all the passion. Reminds him of Angelus. He was intense, in his violence, his blood lust. He doesn't ever want to feel that intensity again, maybe, even if it's for good, for lovin' you. Doesn't want to crave. Doesn't want to lose control, lose himself in you. 'Fraid." He slurred slightly at the end. He'd had a lot of Scotch in a very short time. Buffy didn't notice.

"So how is he a hero if he's afraid of himself?" Buffy demanded hoarsely, bitterly, as his words sunk in painfully.

"Dunno. Even heroes are scared of something." Spike shrugged. "But- but you gotta not let your fear make you hurt the ones you love. He loves you. Doesn't know how to do it right." _Like Dru. She loves me. Sure she does. But she's broken. Just like he is, but she's broken in her mind. He's broken in his spirit. Gave up the fight for the only thing that matters in this world._

Spike propped her head up and met her eyes. "I'm sorry the second chance didn't work out. There's always a third chance?"

Buffy shook her head frantically, gulping with an expression of sourness. "No. No, he only gives me little bits. It's not enough to make a chance out of." She took several heaving breaths before she could control her voice enough to talk. "He came to see me to talk, but he won't stay. He came for Thanksgiving, but behind my back, didn't want to see me. He came to the prom." Buffy had no idea why that painful memory should suddenly manifest. She guessed it was just joining the pain train. "He said he knew it was important. He said I was beautiful. He- he danced the last dance with me. And he told me he was leaving. That nothing was changed between us." Her face crumpled completely. "D-do you know what the song was?"

Spike shook his head helplessly, letting her ramble. He'd rambled, too. When the pain is gonna blow your brain apart it has to come out of your mouth.

"It was called Wild, Wild Horses. And it goes 'Wild, wild horses- couldn't drag me away...'." She tried to sing, but all that happened was whispered, labored words with a faint hint of musicality. "He held me- and then he wouldn't stay. He went away. No horses. Just himself. He just went. The last dance- really was our last dance." Her throat was so tight she could barely breathe, but more words poured out, choking her. "He wouldn't stay, won't stay. He'll never stay. He doesn't want to be with me. Not enough to stay. To see me each day, to be in my life." She put her head down on his shoulder and wept some more, wishing the cool arms supporting her were his arms. How could the man who swore he loved her not be the one holding her? The world was broken, didn't make sense, to go along with her broken heart.

Spike swallowed filthy insult after filthy insult he wanted to lay on Angel's head. Wanted to bash him, wanted to drag out every foul thing he'd ever witnessed him do. Wanted Buffy to hear what a "prize" she was pining for. But he locked his jaw and hummed soothingly as he swayed with her, lips against her forehead and back of her neck alternately, depending on which grief stricken posture she had assumed.

When the tears subsided to a dull, sporadic rasp every minute or so, he cleared his throat and spoke uncomfortably. "Well, if it makes you feel any better- _I'm_ real happy to see you tonight."

Buffy managed a watery smile. "Thanks. But you would've let me go to him, I know you didn't mind- not like well, like you would've minded if it was Dru. It's not like you're crazy about me, keeping me, in love with me. I mean, it's nice, you don't mind, but..." She shrugged. Not the depth she was looking for.

Spike contradicted her, halting her as she tried to explain what they didn't really talk about, how much they meant to one another, the places they'd recently assumed in each others' lives. "I would've let you go- doesn't mean I'd be happy about it." He reached over the side of his recliner with a grunt and held up an empty bottle. Buffy's eyes widened. "And-" he held up a second, half empty. Her eyes widened further, and her mouth started to form an "o" of surprise. "There's a third on standby." He held up the third, unopened. "See how much sadness you're worth?" He smirked.

Buffy laughed, even though it felt like her heart shattered with the sound. "Glad I'm worth something to someone."

"Hey now. None of that lowly, self- bashin' crap. You're the strong sort."

"I think I just disproved that with the whole using you for a human hanky thing." She shook her head.

"No. You're just heartbroken. Again. Bastard." He hissed vehemently. Buffy didn't have the strength or inclination to argue. "What happened exactly? Thought he just came to say sorry."

"He did. And I pushed. I said I understood what love really was, how it didn't come with a right or wrong. We talked about you. How you're the better one right now. With the sticking around and the knowing how to love." Buffy sighed into the stone silence of the crypt. "I begged. I pleaded. I out bitched you in the love's bitch spring classic." She flopped her head back down on his tear-damp tee. "I compromised. I explained. I tried _everything._"

"I know, Luv, You fight hard. Love that about you." Spike praised.

"Well, apparently he doesn't." Buffy laughed bitterly. " 'Cause he shot down everything I said until I just had enough. He was still standing there- with this hurt expression, like I'm torturing him by telling him I love him. I realized- no matter what I say, it's just like before. He'll do what he wants to do." She shook her head in bewilderment. "Then he said- after everything, 'don't leave like this'. Like there was going to be some magical 'suddenly I'm okay with you leaving on your terms and stomping on my heart' moment if I just stuck around for another ten minutes."

"So you left." Spike rubbed her shoulder.

"Yeah. I did." She looked at her hands. "I didn't kiss him goodbye."

Spike looked worried. "Thought that was important to you."

"It was. When it meant something. It doesn't mean anything now." She murmured hollowly.

"Slayer, don't say that, you don't have to lie. It hurts, an' I get it."

Buffy met his concerned gaze with a simple, honest look of her own. "I'm not lying." Clear eyes over tearstained cheeks convinced him she wasn't putting on a show of bravery, nor shielding his feelings out of some misguided affection. "It's over. I still love him." She choked out the words of betrayal, trembling lips shielded by nervous hands. "But I can't be with him anymore."

Spike was stunned. He'd thought- well, he'd thought she'd never quit on Angel. Like he'd never quit on Dru.

Buffy read the surprise in his eyes, a flicker of loss, and it stabbed her already bleeding heart. "I'm sorry. I-I just don't think he- I don't think I-" She covered her head with her arms, curling into a tighter ball on his lap. _Here's a guy who never gave up on a woman, not in almost one hundred and fifteen years. And I stop trying after a couple._ "I know what you must think of me."

Spike pulled her shoulders until she was squarely looking at him, new thoughts and realizations teeming within him, something suddenly clear. "No. You don't know what I think of you. You might never. But one thing I do think is that you're smart. An' damn impressive. Brave. 'Cause sometimes- there's some people-" he cursed his throat as it suddenly bulged painfully, "that you just have to let go. That maybe should've been let go already." He concluded softly. People like Angel. Maybe- just possibly, people like Dru?

Awestruck silence. What were they both saying, about letting go, about moving on? Neither of them wanted to explore it, and they were unified in their lack of speech. The silence started to build some kind of tension between them after a few moments of just being locked together in the stillness. It finally cracked with a quavering plea.

"Don't let me go?" Buffy asked.

His answer burst out of him. "Never. Never gonna let you go, never, never, never." Spike grabbed her to himself, like he could keep there, keep them both safe and lock the hurt out. "You do the same?"

"Uh-huh." She nodded frantically, clutching him back, hands scrabbling to hold him as close as she could.

It was like the atmosphere of the Lowell House, only there was no entity outside of themselves controlling their actions this time. Yet every fraction apart, every inch of skin not met by touch seemed like torture, and urgency was a given, desperation and need were expected.

Spike knew it wasn't enough to just sit there with her like this, he needed to be closer, touching her with his hands wasn't enough. She had to be around him, he had to fill her with himself. With a passionate snarl he rose from the chair, still holding her like she was sitting on his lap. He walked to the stone trapdoor and kicked it aside, and carried her downstairs with a grunt, in one arm, dropping them straight through the hole without benefit of the ladder, just with a flex of his knees. "Hold me. Hold onto me, more than that." He hissed as she clung to him.

"Have to- have to feel you holding me. Not letting me go." Buffy whimpered when he adjusted his grip, peppering mewling little kisses all over his face and neck.

"Gotta get these clothes off. Gotta let you go, just for a second." He soothed, and they tore each other's garments off, furiously, rushing to get back into position. "Need you like this. Skin to skin." She keened and he hissed, pent up emotion bubbling over.

Spike joined her on the bed, feeling her trembling all over. "You cold?"

"No. Yes. Maybe, it doesn't matter, just hold me, it'll stop." Buffy's mind refused to clear. She alternated between the heart wrenching grief of letting go of her one true love, to the desperation to find solace in Spike and not lose what she had left.

Spike nestled her under the blankets, sliding in alongside of her, soothing her. "Never seen you like this. Well, of course." He shook his head at his own stupidity. "Sorry, not thinkin' straight."

"Neither am I." She admitted quickly. "But I'm sure about this."

His face was centimeters from hers, and his eyes burned into her. What was she sure of exactly? "Sure about...?"

"Being with you. Like we have been." She bowed her head into his smooth ivory pec. "I know it probably isn't real flattering that- that I chose him over you in the first place tonight, and then here I come, running back, more like crawling back, needing you. But I don't mean it to be like that. I don't put you in second place, you have your own place to me, and-"

"Shhh." He laughed softly. "You did what I woulda done, no worries. I told you to go, to take the shot. In fact, I'm sorta surprised I'm not gettin' my nose punched in for my spectacularly bad advice."

"Maybe later." She teased, shaking her head no at the same time, making them both smile in that emotionally exhausted way they had mastered. "I wouldn't do that- for this anyway."

"Rest easier knowin' that." Spike grinned. "And as for crawlin'- you never crawl. I like that about you. An' bloody hell- if you repeat this, I'll gut you- I don't care too much about my pride when it comes to you. I just wanted you with me tonight."

"But you let me go." She whispered.

"I had a crack at bein' unselfish. Not cut out for it. Expensive. I know you're an alcohol virgin, but I was drowin' my sorrows with the top shelf, single malt faster, comforts better. Runs up a hell of a tab. Put Willy out, too."

"I'm sorry I hurt you like that. You don't have to worry about me doing that again, that's for damn sure." She sighed bitterly.

"It's okay." Spike moved from beside her to over top of her. "I like a little pain, Luv."

"Not the emotional kind. Let's keep it surface." She lightly bit his earlobe, dragging her teeth down his jawbone after. He shivered and groaned. "I didn't bring anything. The stuff you wanted." She mumbled apologetically.

"How 'bout next time?" He stroked one hand across her bust, up her throat, holding and squeezing lightly, loving the feel of her breathing under him, breathing _for_ him.

There would be a next time. Miraculous. Why is the evil guy the miraculously good lover guy? "With actual planning ahead and accessories? You still want that?"

" 'Course I do."

Buffy relaxed and arched, still frantic for him, but not so upset, feeling soothed with happy thoughts of the future. The kind of thoughts she was supposed to have had about Angel, but now that option was gone. It had always been gone, she just hadn't let it go. "After the research thing- I don't have plans."

"Yeah, you do." Spike growled, gliding himself against her spreading thighs, waiting to feel the heat. He wouldn't plunge in, he'd play for a bit, they needed it. Hard and fast- but not un-pleasurable. "Your plan is to pack your body lotion and that nighty -"

"And the radio." Buffy gasped as his hardness start rubbing on top of and between her folds, velvet tip nudging her clit, brushing her opening, and remaining stubbornly outside of her entrance.

"And that. And somethin' to clean up with, since I'm guessin' you'll need to brave my ice water shower system. We're gonna spend the whole day together. We're gonna make love that's as good as havin' make up sex, without fightin' first." He chuckled.

"That sounds mega yummy. And it's the weekend. I know there'll be patrol related stuff, but otherwise-" She licked her lips, "I'm all yours."

"Mmm. Not yet. But you will be." Spike sat up and looked down at her, this lithe, beautiful, golden girl, the polar opposite of his dark, wisp of a night goddess. And he shivered because the craving for her was so strong, stronger than it should have been. "Thanks." Spike murmured, hands coming to rest on her hips as she lay there, waiting for him. _Someone waiting for me. Rush._

"For what?" Buffy asked in a breathless whisper.

"For comin' here tonight. Even if you didn't want to. Even if I'm not the one you want."

"Spike- you may not be who I'm in love with, but you're so who I want." She reached up and caressed a line from his navel to his sparse, dark hair, letting fingertips continue, trailing down his cock from root to tip before making a gentle fist to guide him closer to her. "And I want you so much. I don't just want you. I- I need you and care about you and-" she swallowed, "even though I wanted it to work with Angel- I was miserable inside because I didn't want to stop being with you." She tugged softly, brining him closer, but he refused to lie down, hovering over her spread, waiting flesh. "How sick and twisted is that?" She laughed in disbelief.

"Only as sick and twisted as me bein' miserable that you were gone. That part of me hoped we'd still be friends, and knowin' we couldn't be."

"We couldn't be?" Buffy looked up at him mournfully.

"You know how I feel about that, Slayer."

She knew he thought ex lovers couldn't be friends. But that's 'cause they were in love and the difference was too much to bear. Spike shouldn't have to- oh. Oh. _Oh, my God, really?_ The idea didn't freak her out anymore, and _that_ wigged her completely. She didn't speak, just looked at him.

Spike looked at her, not away, watching her eyes turn knowing. So he wasn't in love. His stupid body, even his stupid heart didn't know it. Not fully.

"But I'd miss you. You're an evil, soulless jerk, but you're_ my_ evil soulless jerk." Buffy whispered.

Spike was surprised she didn't confront him, challenge him on that forbidden emotional thought. She _must_ know what he was hinting at. "I s'pose I could always give it a try." He conceded softly.

"You won't have to. Not on my account." Buffy soothed. "Since I think- it might be-" she blushed and tried to sound casual, but serious, and probably just ended up sounding mildly mental, "it might be hard- for me to be friends- without being more than friends. L-like you were saying." She looked up at him and watched his eyes widen. "Well- maybe not _exactly_ like you were saying. But- but I don't really know exactly what you were saying, I mean, exactly how." She gasped up at him. "Could you just ravage me already? I'm talking myself into scary places."

"It's the only scare I get to give you. Let me have a bit of fun." He teased.

"Be nice or I'll knee you." Buffy waggled one leg in a slow seductive bend, letting it brush his erection softly.

He sighed and caught her knee in one palm, running his fingers down the buttery smooth skin, wincing with her when he felt her jump in pain. Adam must have hit her there tonight. "Ravage?" He slid one thumb down to her sex, and rubbed her bead. She moaned out a puff of air.

"Uh-huh." Another scary thought. She was okay with being ravaged. Because she wanted to do some ravaging herself. Angel and Riley would never have gone at it like that with her. Angel wouldn't remain in control, so he'd never have risked it. Riley wouldn't have wanted to start, to even try it, and she would have hurt him anyway. _Well, I guess this is okay then, because in one night I've gone through three guys, and ended up here, with Spike. The only one I really shouldn't be with is the only one that works with the person I am, who I've turned into._ "Spike- I need you, if I keep thinking my brain's going to explode." She looked at him with pained eyes, a hand to her forehead.

"But you're not wet enough. It'd hurt if I took you hard, like I want to." Spike ran a finger along the inside of her moist slit. "Like you want to take me."

"Ohh." She let out a moan as she twitched under his touch. "Hard is right, and I'm ready enough. I'm wet. Plenty." She refuted.

Spike massaged the pout of her folds and shook his head. "Some, not enough. You came over here all miserable an' mad. The 'I want Spike juice' jus' needs a little more time to kick in. I think I can help it along."

"You don't have to help me along- we'll help each other. Give your lover what they want, remember?" She stopped his wrist, taking it and pulling it with Slayer strength so he finally landed flat on top of her.

"You actually pay attention." He whispered sarcastically, licking the edge of her mouth. _Poor, sweet, tear-stained mouth._

"More than you'd think." She dug her nails into shoulders, biting his tongue as it crossed the edge of her lips. "Why aren't you inside me yet?"

"You don't want to rush the foreplay, I keep telling you that." Spike insisted.

"I'm not rushing. I've been coming to this point all night." She told him in a low, urgent voice. It was true. Everything she'd done tonight, all of it always led to him. To take the pain away. He had to, she had to, they had to start, or the noise inside her head would never turn off. "Go on. Make with the ravaging."

He grunted and resisted her welcoming depths for one second. "You keep sayin' that. Do you mean ravish?"

"No." Buffy shook her head insistently.

"You sure? 'Cause ravage implies some kind of destruction."

Buffy held his head firmly in both hands, pulling him down as she kissed him hard, breaking the skin behind one ear with her nails, sending him spiraling into her body with gut instinct. "I'm already mostly destroyed. And sometimes- you just have to tear everything down and start over to make it better."

"If _that_ isn't shades of gray." Spike sank into her fully, smoothly, faster than he should have maybe, feeling her flesh catch him, snare him both at the entrance and when he was plunged deep inside at the narrowest point. "Alright?"

"Getting better." She groaned, slender calves wrapping around his muscular ones.

"You _do_ heal tight."

"Slayer package. Isn't that what you said?" She picked her hips up to his, not minding the slight pull inside, actually preferring it, able to think about that instead of something worse.

He let out a hiss of pleasure, one that she must love, judging by her answering cry of "Yessss." "Like it like this?"

"Do more. Find out." She challenged.

Spike beamed wickedly. "That's my girl."

"Apparently." She wrapped her arms under his, locking him down chest to chest, urging him to rut against her, hard, close, bruising, she didn't care.

Spike slammed into her, almost forgetting the zap waiting for him if he crossed the line between pleasure and pain.

"More. More, more, more." Buffy gasped in time to his thrusts.

"You want more an' I'm gonna end up triggerin' the chip. Can't hurt you." And he didn't want to. Not in here, not in this way. Hell, not really in any way just now. Stupid chip- they'd have to experiment when they were a little more controlled and see if he needed to keep that tiny hint of reserve or could he unleash. "Won't ever hurt you on purpose. In here." He grunted, leaving whiskey kisses, burning kisses on her skin.

"You never do." She whispered, and rolled them suddenly, putting her on top, still flat to his chest, but pistoning her firm little derriere over him. "And I never hurt you either. That's why we work."

"You could. If you want." He licked his lips with a malicious hint in his tone.

"I don't ever want to hurt you. Friends- lovers- they shouldn't do that." She slowed on him. "I'm turning into someone who knows right and wrong don't work in bedrooms and behind closed doors- but I'm not ready to be someone who hurts. I will _never_ be someone who hurts another person like that."

Spike kissed the serious face. "There's a little difference between pain and hurt." He pointedly turned his head, keeping one eye on her as he showed her his scar.

Buffy stared at the spot, kneading her lips between her teeth as she considered. "Does it make things better?" She asked softly, lips slowly heading to that scarred place, hesitant but undeniably drawn.

"Only sometimes, on nights like tonight. Tomorrow, when we're knee deep in slow massages and soft music- I won't even think about it. But when you want to destroy the dark nasties that plague you, you want to smash it all to hell... then yeah. It makes it better."

Spike barely finished speaking before she lunged, sinking her top row of teeth into the side of his neck, and giving him new strength in a whirlwind of pleasure. He forced her hips down over his and held them there while he manically pumped himself inside her. Their joint groans turned into sharpening screams and shouts, drowning out the noises in restless minds.

"Such a sweet pain." He smiled against the side of her face, lips to cheek.

Buffy reared back, bent back, spine curving away from him, breasts thrust out and hands planted behind her as she rode furiously. "Mmm. I agree." Little tingles of aching muscles warmed the inside of her pussy and spread across her back and down her legs. Completely distracting, thoroughly intoxicating. And since she was doing it to herself, although using him, Spike was safe from any shocks. She risked a peek and watched him salivating in pleasure as he watched her glorious performance. "Am I ravaging you- or are you ravaging me?" She panted.

"Both." Spike reached down suddenly and dragged her up, unable to keep watching the explicit show of her pink sheath opening and swallowing his long white member faster and faster, turning the pink slit red. Too much to see and smell and feel- and not taste it. He jerked Buffy roughly onto her back and spun her up to his mouth devouring her, hard and fast, nipping and biting and thrusting hard with two fingers. This wouldn't trigger a shock, it was meat purely to please. "_This_ is me doin' you."

In a second he felt firm hands tugging at his side, forcing him around, bringing his cock to her eager mouth. Spike's eyes rolled back in instant pre-orgasm. One of her hands fondled his sack, the other wrapped around the base, and then her mouth went into a series of acrobatic, loving, laving exercises with tongue and teeth. "Then this must be me doing you." Buffy panted between slurps, laughing at the gasping rasp of pleasure that overwhelmed him, made him go slack jawed.

"Stop. Stop, or it's all gonna be over pretty bloody quick." He warned shortly but didn't push her head away.

"So? You're the poster vamp for multiple orgasms and the endless hard on." She teased.

"You sure?"

"I already came. Twice." She reassured with a husky purr.

"You're gonna make me lose control in a second." He warned her once more. As soon as he'd spoken, he was on his back looking at her flushed face and wet, pouting, kiss-swollen, bite-scraped lips as they hovered over his tip.

"I know. I wanna see it happen." She gave him a grin of pure sex and self-satisfaction, so cute on her that he had to stop and grin as well- before she sank almost his whole length in her mouth.

He watched, and she watched him watching, blue eyes and green locked. "Most erotic thing in the world is watching the woman you- you care for so much give you pleasure. For the sake of givin' you pleasure." He whispered, hand reaching for her head.

"Show me how good I am. How good at this." Buffy purred, momentarily lifting her mouth.

"You're good at anything, everything. A -a man would have to be a fool-" Spike's abs crunched forward and his fists clenched, "not to stay with you and love you forever. This, what you're doin' to my body is just icin'. _You,_ yourself, you're the cake."

Buffy blinked back a sudden tear that had no business emerging in the middle of a hot, triple X rated blow job. But it meant so much to be reassured, physically, emotionally, verbally, that she was worth loving. That Angel and Riley had been the ones who couldn't see it, not that there was nothing to see. "Thanks."

"Anytime. Always." He winced in pleasure as she resumed her activities, sucking hard right on the tip now, and flicking the underside of his sensitive crown with her pert little tongue. "Here. Here it comes." He hissed, warning her.

"Mmhmm." She moaned around his cock, not taking her eyes off of him. Spike's startled look was very gratifying. So the thought of it made her feel kind of dirty and she knew maybe "good girls" didn't do what she was inviting him to do. But if right and wrong were dead, so were good and bad, at least in here. _And I want this. I want there to be no part of him, and no part of me, we couldn't touch, couldn't love. That's what it's_ supposed_ to be like. That's how I wanted it, and I'm gonna have it. We both are._

"Buffy." A simple word, but it meant so much.

"Spike. William. It's okay, Baby. It's okay." She slipped her mouth lovingly, slowly down over just the tip and held his gaze.

He let loose so hard he vamped, and he felt his clenched cheeks come off the bed as his pelvis rocked up. He heard her gasp and felt her lips close more tightly on him, then loosen._ She's holdin' on to me 'til it's done. She's new at this. God, she's good. Probably not sure what she's doing, probably doesn't know what she's supposed to do next._ "You can let- it out. Make a mess, I don't care." He cried out, sentence fractured in time to his spurts.

Buffy shook her head, and swallowed slowly, looking at him. She didn't mind the taste, nor did she love it. It tasted, oddly enough, like a mixture of the way Spike smelled, and something faintly metallic and alcoholic. Vampires probably tasted different from human guys, she figured in her hazy brain.

Spike was pulling her up, surprising her, making her mouth pop open, letting a stream of his spray drip down her chin and chest, and more went uncollected all over his wet, still rigid cock. "Here. Here, Pet." He held her tight, kissing her all over, tongue parting her lips and thumb wiping her chin. "You did realize that was happenin' right? I tried to warn you off."

"I'm not mad." She giggled, knowing why he was so concerned. She frowned slightly and smacked her lips. He looked unblinkingly at her. "Not bad. Not good. But not bad."

"You didn't have to do that." He tightened his grip, waiting for a sudden burst of good girl vanilla to rear it's ugly head. Not only had they just done the act she'd refused on the grounds of being disgusting only a few days ago, but he'd let the demon out for a few seconds during it. He was tense in spite of her relaxed attitude, waiting for her to reassure him it was what she'd wanted. He didn't have long to wait.

"I wanted to. I wanted to give you something. I wanted it for me too." She closed her eyes and leaned into him. "I wanted to feel closer. Feel closer to you, cross the lines, not care about what I'm supposed to do or not do. I just wanted to." _Plus whoa- watching Spike let go, up close and personal like that- man, I'm good. The ego seriously needed some boosting tonight, and he's the vamp for the job._ "Did I do it right?"

"I loved it." He smiled. "There's no right way to do that. It's just whatever the couple likes, whatever they decide." He waited until she looked back up at him. "Glad you decided to come here tonight. I didn't know how it would work with Broody Boy, but I didn't think I'd be seein' you again. Not unless it was strictly business."

"I couldn't wait to see you. I didn't think you'd want to see_ me_."

"Crazy." He puffed his cool, borrowed breath lightly on her earlobe, making her quiver.

"Nuh-uh." She lightly grazed one of his small, dark nipples, making him chuckle in wanton pleasure.

"Yes, crazy. I know crazy. I'm a bloody expert on crazy, an' I know I'd be round the bend not to be happy for you to come find me."

Buffy sighed, relieved at his words. But guilt still prickled at her, even though she reminded herself she should have no reason to feel that way. Picking Angel over Spike, true love over this secret charade, was the right choice. Only it had felt kinda wrong. She decided to stop rehashing that issue in her mind. What was done was done. All that mattered now was that she and Spike were going to be okay. He was what she had left, and she was what he had left. A bad situation they were making the best of, just like they'd done in the past.

"It wasn't that I - that I didn't want to come to you. I knew, before I even left Angel, where I was going to. _You_. But listen to me- I need to know, because I have to be okay with you, and I want you to be okay with me. You're what I have in my life now, and tonight my batting average is way down." She pressed a finger to his lips. "So listen. Should I have stayed away from you? 'Cause I don't want to use you. I don't want you to think I'm just running to you when it's all about me. Only it kinda was." She looked like she had a stress headache coming on, brow leaden, and eyes squinting. "I don't want you to think I'm using you, Spike. Only- am I?"

_Well, how about this. Miss Priss can see past her own damages. Here I am, knowing I'm the fill in, and thinking she's too grief stricken to notice. Never underestimate this one, that's when she'll snare you. An' bloody hell, when she asks after me like that, I am snared, well and truly caught._ " Good question, Luv." Spike cleared his throat and regarded with cool eyes. "Are you gonna throw me away like- like some broken toy?" _Like Dru an' her dollies. I'm just one of her soddin' playthings..._

Buffy looked away. "I did tonight." The little prickling guilt turned into a twelve foot saguaro with razor blade quills. She'd leaned on him for weeks, he'd saved her life, she'd saved his, they were about to make love- and she tossed it away at the sight of Angel. Who'd never given her any reason to think they might have another chance. "I didn't think about it. I just acted. I never meant to- to throw-" She felt her throat clog and stopped trying to talk.

Spike stared._ She's apologizing to me. She's - what the hell is going on here? Never mind, just fix the girl before she cries anymore. Hate when she cries. Oh God, I've lost my mind..._ "Now you stop it. Not thinkin' about tonight, that isn't tossin' me aside. You played straight, you honored an agreement. An' if Dru had been the one come lookin' for me, what would you have done?" He demanded.

Buffy managed a weak smile. "Given you a twenty four hour head start to get her out of town. Back to someplace where you two could be together. In love together. And I'd probably tell you not to let her eat anyone, at least until you got out of town."

"Twenty four hours? You're more generous than I thought." Spike smiled down on her. "I don't feel used. I feel like we tried. We take our shots, we try our best- and when it hurts too much- we come back together."

"I wouldn't ever throw you away. Not unless you go around biting people again. And still- I plan on putting the ashes in a nice little pink urn, remember?" Guilt ebbed away, the old, easy relaxed friendship flowing in, like some emotional tide.

Spike groaned comically. "Oh bloody hell. Could you at least make it somethin' silver? Or bronze? I'll settle for plain black enamel. Ooh, maybe with one of those fire breathing dragon designs?"

"Pink." She insisted. "But a dull pink." She giggled.

"You're killin' me, Slayer." He growled.

"As long as I don't hurt you." She stuck her tongue out.

"Hey. You an' I did this so there'd be somethin' to take the pain away. No strings attached. Why you keep tryin' to make it hard, Luv?"

"I think there's string now." She touched his chest softly, over the heart that didn't beat. "Maybe not lots. But still. Strings. Attached." She let her finger trace his smooth ridged chest and trail over to her own.

Spike didn't know if he liked the gravity of her tone, her voice. And he was pretty sure she was right about the deepening attachment, but he didn't have to admit it. He regarded her with one of his patented bad boy smirks. "See this?" He held up two fingers, spread like a V.

"Peace?" She looked at him like he'd lost his undead marbles.

"Scissors, silly girl. I can cut that nasty old string right away." His fingers snipped the air and he chuckled.

Buffy caught his hand. "No. I think I like this string. Our string. Just one piece?" She bit her lip with an innocently seductive look.

Spike licked his own lips and nodded. "Alright then. Look at this." The fingers joined together.

"Boy scout salute?" She guessed, deliberately annoying him this time.

"Idiot." he kissed her forehead. "This is a bandaid. String, fine. One piece, okay. But no hurt." He smoothed the fingers across her chest like he was applying an adhesive. "Better?"

"Very." She grinned and mimicked the motion on him. "Better?"

"Needs a kiss, Slayer. And I've got a lot of aches and pains, Baby."

She rolled him on his back with languid grace. "Hm? Where do you need kisses?" She puffed up her lips and smoldered at him.

"Oh...I dunno. But I'm not worried." Spike tangled his hand in her hair, slowly dragging her head to his, using the other hand to brush her fingers against his hardness. "You'll find all the spots."

* * *

><p>After a second round, with a third looming pleasantly on the horizon, the pair relaxed. This time Buffy lay face down, snuggled under him, comforted by his weight, her supernatural strength making him easy to bear. He was like her thick, cool, muscular cloak. "That was good." Buffy sighed dreamily.<p>

"It'd be better if you relaxed all the way." Spike rubbed his fingers between her legs, the swollen labia proof that she was going at it hard, harder than normal, even for them, still trying to knock all the bad out of her night, using the pleasure to do it.

"I'll relax tomorrow. I will be the limp noodle of relaxed-ness." She yawned.

"Better bring some snacks. If you wanna spend the day."

"I do. We can stop after the meeting." She suggested.

"I'll drive." He nodded into her shoulder, moving her hair away so he could lap at her welted neck, thick with love bites.

"I'm glad I came home to you." She mumbled drowsily.

Spike couldn't speak for a second. _She came home to me. Came home to me. Without me chasin' her. She could have went somewhere else, girl's got plenty of pals, could have stayed away on her own, she's a survivor. But she chose to come back. And she's glad about it._

His voice was perilously close to being inaudible as he tried to speak._ I've been waiting for over a year for someone to want me enough to come back. I just didn't think it'd be her. But it doesn't matter. It's what I want. She's what I want. Who I want._

"I'm glad you came home to me, too." He finally managed to utter. He was met with silence. He peered at the girl under him, her pretty profile. Her eyes were closed in exhausted sleep.

Spike sighed and leaned forward, brushing a chaste kiss on her cheek. He got to whisper the words he'd been longing to say for months and months. Maybe they weren't originally meant for her, but they were meant for her now. The pain began melting away as he bent to put his lips against her ear, murmuring, "Welcome home, Baby."

In her sleep, the Slayer smiled.

_To be continued..._


	15. Chapter 15

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: Very mushy and smutty, with a plot heavy opening. Partially explicitly M-rated chapter. I mean very. Sometimes I say this, and you all think- "What? You call this smut?" Well, I MEAN it this time. You were warned. Skim if you gotta._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Sundance22, Lalabuff, Sweet- T3, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21,Little Missy123, twotoe, MMWillow, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and Les Roi des Ombres_

_I do so love all of you, my devoted readers and reviewers. All my work goes out to you._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XV

"Buffy? Buffy? BUFFY!" Giles thumped the book in front of him closed and shouted loud enough to penetrate the mental haze surrounding the girl in question.

"Huh? What?" Buffy looked up guiltily, startled.

"I said- 'Did you find anything in the _Treatise of Reanimation_ by Priestess Jasmine Forquar?'."

"Uh..." Buffy looked at the very large book she was supposed to be studying during the research session. _What am I supposed to say? "Sorry, I re-read this one paragraph eighteen times, because every time I was about to turn the page Spike distracted me"?_ She cast a furtive look at the vampire sitting across from her, in the shadowy part of the table. He of the nudging boots against her calf, the careless fingers brushing her arm accidentally on purpose whenever he turned a page. And the smile! No one should look so smoldering hot on a Saturday morning while bent over a dusty old research assignment.

"Forquar's all zombies an' magically reinhabitin' a corpse with a stolen soul. Not our thing at all. Adam's made from science, not magic." Spike covered easily for his lover, feeling her appreciative, hidden squeeze on his knee under the table.

"What he said. Not helpful." Buffy nodded sagely, trying to ignore the skeptical look Giles gave them.

"Then try this one." Giles started to reach for another volume and was cut off by Xander's loud groan.

"Giles, I think the only thing that would work is hitting him at close range with a grenade or taking him down to the lumber yard and letting them use the industrial saw to slice and dice him. Then we burn the parts or drop them into the ocean." Xander closed his tenth book of the day and bit into his second jelly doughnut.

"Innocent lives are going to be lost if we use a weapon like a grenade." Giles rubbed his forehead. "As for the saw-" He looked at the boy balefully, "that would require us immobilizing Adam long enough to bind him and take him to the lumber yard. If we could do that, we could just bloody kill him ourselves!" He tore off his glasses and put his head in his hands. "Willow- tea. Please." He moaned softly, migraine beginning to overtake the painkillers he was taking for his ankle.

"We could lure him out into a big open field. _Then_ hit him with a grenade." Anya suggested cheerfully.

"Lure him how?" Spike asked.

"By giving him something he really wants."

"He wants bodies. Carnage. An assembly line of Franken-parts." Spike shook his head at her idea. "If we get the lot of demons and soldiers brawlin' out in your big open space- they'll still be in the way when we fire any kind of heavy weaponry at him."

Giles looked appraisingly at Spike.

"What?" Spike demanded bitingly.

"You actually are capable of linear planning. I thought you were- well, frankly, a big, violent, impetuous idiot."

"Oh, I can plan." Spike preened slightly.

"He just can't wait to _complete_ the plans, usually." Buffy pursed her lips at him and glared.

"_Who's_ the impatient one, Luv?" Spike queried, cocking an eyebrow, leaning closer. "I don't rush_ everything_."

Buffy flushed and felt heat seeping from overexcited core to her nether lips. No Spike wasn't the type to rush everything. And they were going to explore that soon. Soon as they could wrap this research session up. Killing Adam was important- but really hard to focus on when you know what's next. _For the first time ever- I have a romantic day of lovemaking planned with someone I really care about, who makes me really feel something, inside and out. But I have to get out of here first._

"Planning flaws aside-" She began.

"Just think the fight is the best part." Spike defended himself in a petulant undertone.

"Vanquishing was always the best part for me." Anya sighed wistfully.

"Violent, bloody vanquishing." Spike smiled, nodding in reminiscence. Anya exchanged a faraway "those were the days" look with him.

Tara looked at Anya nervously from over the edge of the spell book she was holding, and ducked behind it when she saw the other woman had noticed.

"Vengeance demon." Anya reminded her.

"_Ex_ vengeance demon." Xander reminded Anya pointedly.

"Well, with all the experience between us, shouldn't we be able to figure this out?" Buffy demanded, trying to get the group refocused. "Let's make a plan, and- and get on with our day." She nodded firmly, plastering a "motivational speaker" look on her face.

"Sucking him into a big hole worked okay." Willow, making a pot of tea, called from the kitchen.

"Except for Spike and Riley going down with Adam." Buffy shook her head. "Who knows who might fall next? I mean- it was freaking awesome, Wills- just risky."

"And it didn't keep him down. He tunneled out." Spike tried not to think about the aftermath of the battle, about the heartbreak portion of the evening. "Overheard in Willy's. Oh, an' they didn't get much. Few bits and bobs from the computer place and some things from the medical center, apparently not one of the big things the boss wanted."

"Computer place? They were at Calex?" Giles looked surprised.

"Why didn't they get much? We had all hands on deck across town." Xander demanded.

Spike looked at Buffy. She closed her eyes, her voice dropping a solid octave as if it were an effort to speak. "Angel. He came to help out."

"Angel was here?" Willow plunked the teapot down in front of Giles and hurried to Buffy. _She was just telling me she was still in love with him. Oh, man. She looks so sad now. I wonder why she seemed okay earlier? She's so strong. She holds so much inside..._ Willow watched Spike and Buffy subtly move closer together, Spike seeming to watch the blonde unblinkingly, a look of hidden concern on his pale face. _Or- or she let it all out with someone._ Willow tried not to be jealous, reminding herself that Tara had been her biggest confidant lately, and Buffy deserved a second pair of ears as well.

"Yeah. Some vision thing. Having more than I can handle, he had to come up and 'rescue' me." She and Spike made twin snorts of incredulity.

"He's a bad influence on you, Buffster." Xander sighed in Spike's direction.

"Bonding." Anya sang under her breath.

"Well, he certainly provided a service." Giles coughed, looking at the pain on Buffy's face- and the faint similarity on Spike's.

"Yeah. And he wanted to apologize. For defending Faith- who he admits was wrong for assaulting my mom, wearing my body, sleeping with my boyfriend, and trying to let me get executed in her place- but he still doesn't admit I was right to try and kill her." She said in a mockery of Angel's deep voice.

"Bastard." Xander and Spike said in unison, and then exchanged a panicked glance.

"Well- you agreed on something." Willow said brightly.

"I need to bathe." Xander shivered and very obviously moved farther back into his seat. Willow turned and gave him a poisonous glare. "Sorry. So- Dead Boy's home for the big battle?"

"So not. We 'talked'. Which was me trying to convince him to treat me like a person and actually interact more than just sneaking up to fight my battles and apologize for siding with the woman who tried to murder me. Complete with guilt, belittling, shouting, tears, and stabbing heartbreaking pain." She nodded, a tight, sardonic smile on her face. "Which- all in all, better than the last time we saw each other."

"You seem less emotionally disturbed and suicidal than you did last time. Good job." Anya praised.

"Th-that must have been hard. To s-see him all the sudden." Tara sympathized.

"You don't even want to know." Buffy's smile faltered and she blinked hard. Turning her head away from the group, she looked at Spike- and found a little piece of strength. "But you know- good friends help you through stuff."

All but Spike felt this was an unintentional blow to their consciences. They hadn't been as close to Buffy in the aftermath of Riley's break up, and had drifted apart during their romance. They hastened to offer support, belatedly.

"Buffy, I'm so sorry, I'd no idea. You should've called! My door is always open." Giles reached out to her with a smile, but didn't leave his chair as he was limping too badly for any non-vital movements.

"As is my basement." Xander said with goofy grandeur.

"Except during sex or post-coital clean up." Anya reminded her.

"We could do a _Steel Magnolias_ and ice cream pity party?" Willow offered.

"She means me, you daft white hats." Spike spat. Everyone, including Buffy looked surprised. _Shit. I think that might have just shoved the kitty out of the burlap._

"You? You did the post-Angel comforting ritual?" Xander looked disbelievingly at the vampire.

"Yes. He did it just great. And I feel a lot better." Buffy said quickly in her no nonsense tone of voice. _Comforting me like that is something only Spike could ever do._ Images of frantic coupling and sobbing on his chest warred for attention. _He's just good. Well, bad. But good at comforting me. I could cry- and rant and bring up everything and anything and he'd listen and not judge. Then he could take me downstairs and make me forget I can even speak, that there's such a thing as tears._

"I'm not stupid. I know a bit about grief. I spent years comfortin' Dru when she had her bad moments." Spike stared all of them down.

"I don't think we doubted your ability. More your- willingness." Giles peered at them over the edge of his glasses. He saw an intimate look pass between them and sighed. "My mistake." He supposed that Buffy and Spike would indeed have- well, to quote Anya, "bonded", after heir forced encounters. Being locked alone together in a room could turn strangers into friends, why not enemies? Because there was more to overcome. He didn't like to think of his slayer like this, but he imagined that when the two of them had been- intimate- with one another, they'd had to overcome animosity on many levels. Physically, the nudity, that must have been mortifying- but they were both fighters. And Spike must have been somewhat kind and -oh, heavens, thoroughly appalling thoughts-gentle, or she wouldn't trust him. She wouldn't continue to let him near her if the memories were too painful. Giles looked pensively at the two of them as they were explaining something to the group- he had tuned them out, just watching the body language. Relaxed. But closed over.

_They are friends. But they don't like it. I can't blame them. I'd hate if the reason I started to feel close to a person was because I shagged them shamelessly while not in control of my own actions._ He winced hard inside and swallowed tea hastily. _That damn house should've been blown up. I wouldn't have minded if most of the occupants below it, especially Finn, went with it._

Buffy and Spike seemed well enough after their ordeal, but they could've been made to do anything. _Anything._ Things neither of them had ever done, or ever wanted to do, not just in the act of being together, but acts within the act. Degrading, dehumanizing things, further dehumanizing and degrading than having no say in who you're bedding down with. His slayer emerged shaken but still standing. Spike had a hand in that.

_If Spike helped her, prevented that from happening to her- he can bloody well comfort her however he likes._ He smiled into his tea. _If Buffy objected to his methods- she'd kick his arse clear across the Pacific._

"Giles? Giles? Hey! Watcher-mine!" It was Buffy's turn to try to penetrate the shell of his thoughts.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, of course Spike could offer you a friendly shoulder. Considering the circumstances."

"We just covered that." Buffy said slowly. "Are you sure you didn't hit your head last night?"

"No, no, just the ankle." He laughed quickly.

"Those painkillers aren't making you zone out, are they?" Willow turned from Buffy and went to Giles, peering at his pupils.

"I'm fine. I was just- momentarily distracted."

"Well, after we finished explaining that Angel's out of town- and I'm handling it okay, since some bleached chipped puppy took my mind off it with his usual annoying habits-" Buffy blotted out that annoying way he took control of her body again and again and again, until she was a puddle of sated exhaustion, and the annoying way she couldn't resist returning the favor, "and we'd moved back to the Adam situation. We can't find anything to make him weaker. What about making me stronger?"

"There's no spell that I know of that increases a slayer's strength. Those kind of spells tend to work on humans without powers. It'd just bounce off of you, I'm afraid, seeing that you already possess what it grants." Giles sighed.

"So- can't you just attach that power to the normal gal part of me? Like we attached the protection spell to Spike's house 'cause of his human aura thingy?" Buffy whined slightly.

"Your aura is split, but it's balanced. We'd need the human part to be stronger while we cast the spell, and then it'd have to be controlled and let the slayer side get the upper hand to actually fight him like you'd need to." Tara spoke up, still buried in a book. The room was silent and her head popped up. "Oh- s-sorry. I was j-just thinking out loud." She blushed and looked anxiously away.

"Well, you should do it way more often." Xander nodded appreciatively. "You got yourself a smarty pants, Will."

"I know. She's the best." Willow beamed at her girlfriend.

"Do you know of a way to do that? Supe up the Slayer's human aura?" Spike asked, leaning forward.

"N-no. You c-can't do that. Your aura is what it is." She didn't like the piercing blue eyes tearing into her with so much curiosity. And she didn't want to mention that Spike's aura could somehow force itself to favor one side or the other. There hadn't been magic in that, it was sheer willpower, something inside him.

"Could you- could you use something like Faith used? Only instead of switching auras and souls or whatever, could you just add some in?" Xander licked his lips. "Like- what if I went in with her?"

"No!" Anya shook her head and clutched his hand. "You'd die! Buffy looked like hamburger after that one fight, and she's all mystically powerful! You're Xander. You'd look like _dead_ hamburger!"

"Shh, honey, I meant- I meant, is there a way to just borrow some Xander-y goodness and add it to the Buffy goodness to make the human side bigger?"

Buffy gave him a glowing smile. "You are the bestest best buddy in the world, Xander Harris. But I don't think my aura has any extra room in it to just pour someone else's in, like adding salt to soup. Um. I think. Right?" She looked at Tara who nodded.

"You can't pour someone into someone else without pushing that person's innate self out."

"Like Faith. She went in, you went out." Willow explained.

"Can you- can you fuse essences without forcing them into one body?" Giles asked suddenly, hobbling to his feet.

"I-I don't know. I don't know that much." Tara was overcome by nerves and shyness.

Giles beckoned Willow and Tara to his side as he found a book on the shelf. "Yes. Yes, this is what I thought of."

"An enjoining spell?" Willow sounded excited.

Anya didn't. "You can't use one of those. I already thought of it." She shook her head.

"Way to kill the party, Sweetie." Xander muttered, ruffling her hair as he pulled her close.

"Why not, Anya?" Giles asked seriously.

"Oh, you could. If Buffy were normal. But she's a freak."

"Gee, thanks. I love you, too." Buffy rolled her eyes at the blunt female.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean you're a bad freak- but you're not like we are. We're mere mortals- okay, some of us have magical powers, but that's not in us, that's what we can _do_." She looked at the wiccas and Giles.

"What's that have to do with this spell?" Willow asked, scanning the page with Giles.

Tara nodded, looking at Anya. "No. No, Anya's r-right. This is a spell to fuse essences outside of a body, and then join them to the body- like- like a protective shell, but inside. It wouldn't go in your aura, it'd surround it."

"So? What's the problem?" Spike stood up, sauntering to the pair holding the book. "Sounds ideal."

"Buffy's got a human aura and a Radiant power combined." Tara reminded them hesitantly.

"We'd add human auras to the mix, and then if we strengthened her- or we strengthened us and then sent our fused essences over to her..." Giles began to understand. "We'd overwhelm the slayer side, rendering her useless in battle?"

"I think more likely the Radiant power would also be strengthened. And blow all of our auras to smithereens."

"Which would make us kind of like- vegetables?" Willow's eyes widened.

"Oh, dear." Giles sighed.

"Isn't there some way to keep my inner power thing nice and relaxed?" Buffy took the book and shared it with Spike and Anya, who was now on her feet as well.

"You can't take it out of you."

"And it's very tricky. If we overwhelm it, you'll be helpless against Adam, if your Radiant power overcomes us, we'll be spiritually defunct."

"And Buffy's eyes could shoot out of her head." Anya added.

"My what?" Buffy squawked, jumping away from the text, hands to her face.

"You're a human. You're built to withstand certain things, and your human aura helps control your weird freak power. Let it get supersized and it'll rip right out of your human body. Eyeballs and spleens and fingernails getting ripped out too. Like that mayor guy turning into a giant snake. Only he was a demon. You'd probably look like a destroying angel. Some Amazonian warrioress. Maybe a valkyrie."

"With- with that metal bra thing, and the little leather tunic?" Xander's mind wandered for a split second before Spike slapped the back of his head.

"Ow!" Both men cried.

"Oh, this is bloody pointless. We'll make a bomb and try to get everyone out of the area before we use it." Giles sank painfully back onto his desk chair.

"There has to be something that makes this split aura thing work in our favor. Wouldn't it just get surrounded, not added to, like the human aura? There has to be a way to keep it from vanishing, or feeling threatened and going into metal bra, destroying angel territory." Buffy tried reading the book for another ten seconds before Spike pointed out in a whisper that the part she was trying to decipher was in Sumerian.

"The only thing you could even try would be to anchor it with someone else's power in the enjoining spell. And none of us have power or even a split-" Tara's voice slowed and then stopped.

Spike felt all eyes turn to him in sudden recognition. "Forgot I was playin', didn't you?" He smirked.

"Your power can anchor hers. Yours is Dark and hers is Radiant, so it'll work!" Willow yipped excitedly. "And your human aura can go help her with all of our auras. And then- and then how do you anchor the Radiant power?" She looked at Tara.

"I think it's just negated- not like- not like _gone_, negated, but unchanged. It can't get all huge- if it's balanced. I think."

"We can do a bit of research. It's here somewhere." Giles started rummaging through the papers on his desk, "I recently started looking into aural transference. Faith." He said simply to Buffy's questioning glance. "And I have an article someplace..." He smiled winningly at Tara as she stood anxiously by Willow. "I didn't know we had an expert in our midst."

"I'm not. I'm r-really not." Tara looked like she might faint. "It's so dangerous. I d-don't want you to try anything because of my ideas."

"We try dangerous things all the time. Risk is part of being a slayer. No matter how I try, or how hard people push me to find a happy, normal life, and a nice, happy, normal guy- I am always going to end up taking risks." Buffy said fervently, earning herself some curious looks. "Sorry. Angel projection."

"Ahhh." The group chorused understandingly, except for Spike who just watched her stir the troops and tried not to lick his lips openly._ So much power in that hot, tight little body. Men who wouldn't like that writhing under them or riding over them were all bloody poofy wankers._

"You could get hurt. Or worse." Tara looked at Willow, not Buffy, as she spoke._ I can't lose her. I've never been in love like this. But I know now what they mean by other half. She's the air to my earth, the happiness in me. She's my own kind of radiant power. I lover her so much, and she's strong enough to help me keep the badness inside. For her- I am stronger. No one will ever have to know what the women in my family are tainted with, as long as I can keep being strong..._

But it wasn't just Willow who had given her strength for the first time in a long time. Her eyes traveled quickly across all the faces, so different, but all of them kind to her, even Spike, in his own way, had never made her feel as afraid as she'd felt at home, had tried to be kind to her- or at least not horrible to her. _Never had friends like this, and we barely know each other. All these people- could die at once, because of my stupid ideas. My father was right. It's better for everyone when I'm quiet._

Spike waved off Tara's frightened comments with a snort and gesture at the group as a whole."They're tough. I know. Tried to kill most of 'em at one point or another. Didn't take. The lot of 'em- cockroaches. Live no matter what you do to 'em." He gave Buffy a look of supreme irritation.

She returned it, scowling. "And he's mostly dead. Plus-" she flicked her fingers against the cigarette he was lighting, making it fall to the floor as he cursed at her, " he's too mean and stubborn to die and stay dead. I know. I've tried." She sighed heavenwards.

"Not to interrupt the description of how tough all of us are, because, hey- loving it," Xander preened, "but if we don't try something, Adam's going to play Operation with all of us- using real tools and he's not going to be looking for water on the knee and funny bones. I think if I've got to end up being spliced together with other people- I'd rather it was my aura stuck to you guys than my body parts sewn to some random demon. I mean- I already know I'd be smarter sharing Giles' and Willow's brains, and stronger from Buffy. And hot and sexy from you." He looked at Anya.

"What about from me, Droopy Boy?" Spike snarked.

Xander winced. "Just as long as you don't give me the teeth and the hair."

"I don't think it's quite like that, Xander." Giles smiled, touched by the boy's willingness and courage.

"I know." Xander winked with a brave smile.

"Still, the boy has a point." Spike lit his recaptured cigarette. "We can try somethin' an' risk gettin' killed, or do nothin' an' risk gettin' killed. I don't like sittin' around if I could be killin' somethin' instead, so..." He shrugged and looked at Tara, "stitch us up." He looked at Buffy next, "Right, Slayer?"

"There aren't actual needles involved, right?" She winced.

"Big, brave Slayer..." Spike chided derisively.

"If I dust him, could we use his ashes?" Buffy slipped a stake from her waist band and brandished it carelessly at Spike, who took a swift step away.

"If she's gonna threaten me, I'm not in." Spike pouted.

"You are such a whiner." Buffy cried, but put the stake away.

"All of you, out!" Giles suddenly put his hand to his head. "Impossible as it would seem, you've overpowered my Codeine prescription and a cup and half of Oolong, which I only use after hangovers and concussions." He ignored the burst of schoolgirl giggles from Willow and Buffy at his remarks. "Now- Tara, Willow- will you please research aural transference and the enjoining, and the old powers?"

"I can help." Anya offered with a shrug. "I used to have an old power myself. I know what I'm looking for."

"And as goeth Anya, there goeth I." Xander raised his hand to be counted.

"I'll read up on the enjoining spell and a suitable strengthening spell- get what we need. As soon as this damned headache goes." Giles pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Um- me? Slayer, plot-central character girl? What do I do?" Buffy asked.

"You and Spike find out where Adam will most likely be. Don't engage him. Just try to find his location, see if he's in the caves still, or find out where he plans to strike and how soon. We may have delayed him, but I doubt we've stopped him. Be precise as you can. I don't want to wait too long. We've got to hit him when he's weak." Giles concluded gravely. With unanimous nods, the group scattered.

* * *

><p>"This is a weakness Mother should have corrected." Adam carefully removed a bloody bandage from his head. "Human and demon optic components are so difficult to replace. Such small nerves and delicate arteries."<p>

"Do you need some help, your Unitedness?" One of Adam's grovelers stood by him as he hovered over a steel table.

"I need many things. Almost none of which were gotten last night."

"We didn't expect them to-"

"I am aware of that. The continued unexpectedness of the Slayer is to be expected from now on. I was prepared to massacre her friends. I didn't figure on the car. Or the power of the witch. They are problematic, all of those associated with her." Adam looked at the further disfiguration of his face, a gaping splatter of eye and socket from his brother's weapon greeted him. He didn't even flinch. "Saline solution."

"Yes, Master." His follower handed him a bottle from the surgical cart beside the table.

Adam calmly washed out the torn socket. "Module."

"Module?"

"Camera module. And the lead."

"What are you-"

"I'm hardwired." Adam began to snake the black cord attached to the small black ball with a clear lens through his empty opening. "This is merely a plug in. Although feeding it through to the electrical system-" he stopped and grunted, " is extremely painful. Flesh is weak. Mechanoid will be better." He flexed his human hand, feeling it move lightly, now that he'd removed his upgrade of steel gun barrel from it after it had been bent and pinched beyond repair last night. "But nothing is fully impervious." He tried to attach the lead, feeding it deeper and deeper into soft tissue. "Damn them. Pain is weakness, and shouldn't be experienced." He stopped and collected himself. "I find myself in a curious situation. I think I need- family. Until I'm repaired."

"Family?"

"Yes. Someone I can trust."

"You can trust me, Master, I vow-"

"No. Trust was the wrong word. I need someone who _can't_ fail me. Not someone who _won't._ Someone bionically incapable of failure." Adam slipped away from the steel table and headed to a filing cabinet in the corner. "Someone programmed to succeed at a given mission. Like me."

"There are more of you?"

"Not exactly." Adam found a disk and pulled it form the drawer before inserting it into his own chest drive. " Activate Finn, Riley. Program to home on my signal." He spoke softly. An answering beep came from inside his chest. "That should help with the preparations. It wasn't how I'd wanted to use him, but plans change."

"What's happening, oh most Blended One?"

"My brother is on his way over." Adam smiled. It was a truly terrifying sight.

* * *

><p>Riley winced when he caught sight of himself in the steel tray beside his bed. He was lucky to be alive, to be able to walk, to not be on his way to Leavenworth. As it was, the C.O. was pissed yet proud, honestly believing Finn's motives were completely out of selfless concern for his squad and was even talking about a Bronze Star or a Purple Heart. Riley didn't want those. He just wanted Spike in a cell, pertinent parts of his anatomy in glass jars, and then Spike dusted. He wanted Buffy to be saved, and all of her demon-loving buddies to wake up and smell the evil. Mostly, he wanted to be away from here, back in special ops training, Army Rangers maybe, or POWMIA search and rescue. The elite of the elite. That's what they said the Initiative was. They were so wrong. This was like getting stuck in a monster movie and having a lot of facial pain when your girlfriend left you to fuck one of the characters.

Riley stopped his musings abruptly, as if his brain had been remote controlled and someone changed the channels. Sometimes he felt like that after his meds, but this was different. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He blamed the fall and the injuries and whatever had been in his IV. But suddenly, the most logical thing in the world seemed to be to get out of the infirmary. Away from everyone associated with this nightmare existence.

He slowly, painfully got up. Most of his ribs were broken and he had a nice, deep leg wound from having a chunk of parking lot fall on it, sharp edge first. Not to mention the bruising, everywhere, from a drop into the seemingly bottomless pit. He shook his head and suppressed a vehement curse. _I can't believe she chose him over me._

Riley slipped out of the ward, a little nagging thought reminding him that if he was just heading out on his own, out of the Initiative, he was going to be declared AWOL. Another persistent thought reminded him that he was walking purposefully, if slowly, away- and he had no idea where he was going. Every time logic seemed to find a foothold, a stronger call overrode it. Literally overrode it, only Riley didn't know that. He didn't feel the ticking inside himself. A tiny black chip, so harmless looking, not connected to anything but nerves and tissues, tiny impulse modifiers zinging along rapidly in time to his heartbeat. Even the woman who'd created it didn't know how much of a ticking time bomb it was.

* * *

><p>"Was that all we needed to do?" Spike asked the Slayer as she slid into the car beside him.<p>

"Until dark. Willy doesn't know anything, says everything is quiet. Very quiet. Between us, Angel, and the Initiative guys, there's probably going to big decrease in his customer base." Buffy sighed. "I guess we have to check the cave- but you can't go walking in the woods in this sunshine, and I don't know where any demons are hiding out in daylight hours to beat up for info, so..."

"So we're done until dark." Spike pulse would have sped up if he'd still had one. "Do you still want to spend the day?"

"I want to spend the weekend, but I don't know if we'll get the chance right now." Buffy leaned over and kissed him slowly. _Spending a weekend. I wonder if we could ever go away on a weekend? Do we do that? I bet we do that. We do whatever the hell we want. But first things first._

"Hey, I talked to my mom this morning, when I went up to get some clothes? She'd left a message and I called her back. She's on a buying trip for a couple days." Buffy bit her lip. "I know the bed is bigger, and there are more candles at your place, but there's an _actual_ bathtub and bathroom at my house. Plus- groceries. Not having to live on diet coke and pretzels is of the good."

"We can go to the dorm, Luv, don't need to rile up your mum." Spike had a healthy fear of the elder Summers.

"But-" Buffy swallowed, "I wanted to- to have more alone time. More romantic time." She swallowed again. "I bet you and Dru had these special nights or days all the time- but not me."

Spike arched his eyebrows and quickly lowered them, remaining impassive looking. _Commando never made her feel special, huh? Angel never got the chance, and don't think he would've anyway. He'd be too afraid to get comfy and bye bye soul._ "It's your call."

"It was just a thought."

"If your mum comes home early- she'll stake me. Right in the middle of whatever I'm doin', which will most likely be you." Spike warned her.

"I promise I'll save you. I'm one for one on the Spike saving." She teased.

He grinned crookedly. "I'll get some clothes and some candles. And the blood. You still need to run by the dorms?"

"I'm packed." Buffy pointed to her medium sized black purse.

"You're packed? In that tiny little thing? What the hell could you have-"

Buffy slowly unzipped the bag and teased out a piece of pink silk, then a bottle of vanilla scented lotion. "There's already a stereo in my room. Clothes and towels, too. So- Im packed." She whispered.

Spike's foot connected with the accelerator and the mangled black car flew down the street towards Restfield. "I take that as a yes?"

"It was the nightie. Goddamn it. Always had a weakness for silk. Dru liked lace, though."

"Why silk?"

"Doesn't tear as easily."

"I thought you'd be all with the tearing."

"Yeah, tearing off, but when you want to- well- I'll show you later. If you want." A sudden image of a wrist bound Slayer moving underneath him made him dizzy with lust. But he didn't think she'd ever let them play like that. And today wasn't so much about playing. He could feel the playful dropping right out of him the more he thought about getting the chance to make an entire day out of making love. "I won't show you today."

"Was it kinky?" Buffy huddled into her seat with a sudden cold feeling in her stomach.

"Not to me. To you, prob'ly." He shook his head. "I don't feel like that today, though."

"Are you just saying that?" Buffy asked cautiously.

He took a corner and then a shortcut, screeching them closer and closer to the cemetery. "Not to dwell on an unpleasant moment, but I thought last night that I was gonna get to be with you. Really be with you." His grin was pained, like it really wasn't a happy memory. "Then you left. And it was over. Another one, all over." He paused before finishing, exhaling air that'd he'd forcibly taken in. "Then you came- you came back to me."

Buffy heard the tiny catch in his words._ I came back to him. Like he deserves. Dru's such a bitch._ "I did. I came home." She murmured softly.

"So today's all about jus' bein' home. Bein' together." He jerked the car to a halt. "However we're back, however we're together."

Buffy's heart swelled up in her throat._ I could love him so much. If I would let myself, if he would let me, if he'd love me back. Because there's so much to love, under all there is to hate. And I could look under. I'm good at looking under._

"Then hurry up, so we can go home." She smiled.

* * *

><p>"Anyone home? Mo-oooom?" Buffy's call reverberated the windows. "It's safe." She told Spike after a tense moment.<p>

"Better be." Spike pulled his smoking coat off and shook it out. Two bags of blood fell to the ground but mercifully didn't burst. "I'll put these in the fridge."

"I'll- um- I'll-" Buffy pointed up, and blushed as she caught her lower lip between her teeth.

"Be right there. Here." He handed her a plastic bag from the convenience store where he got his smokes, now jammed with a dozen candles. She nodded wordlessly and tripped off lightly, heading up the stairs.

Spike took his time putting the blood away, trying not to feel a lot of things he was undeniably feeling. For one thing, his "William" side was having a field day, was composing sonnets about the girl and feeling a heartbeat that didn't exist. Like his human side was going to finally get some. Sorry, Charlie, doesn't work that way. You died a virgin, and you'll always be one. Spike's the one who gets the action. Or at least- the more primal, feral side of William gets the action. She doesn't need you to be all mushy soft and probably bawl like a baby and quiver your lips. Moan on about how beautiful it all is, about how you love - no. No, see you can't come out. You with your heartfelt confessions of love. Last time you did that, you ended up dead within the hour. I'd wager it'd be the same with Slayer.

Spike walked up slowly, and knocked gently on the one door that was closed upstairs. In spite of his self-lecture, his heart, long gone silent but its sound faintly remembered, was thundering in his ears. He could tell her anything, really. They had that friendship rule. It all depended on how she was acting.

"Come in- ooh! Shoot! Don't come in!" Buffy sounded nervous and frantic and he laughed to himself. He heard crashing and music jerked to a stop. "I just knocked over the radio. Oh, crap, that's broken." He heard her mutter.

"Is anything on fire?"

"Nope!"

"Then it's nothin' to fret over. Can I come in, Slayer?"

She opened the door- in a big, pink furry bathrobe. "It's just Buffy. Okay?" She had her arms hugging herself and her eyes were huge.

"Okay. Buffy. You cold?"

"Nope. Kinda hot and tingly." She jumped when he touched her. "Sorry. Sorry."

"You get your girl flow? Are we off?" Spike sniffed at her when she recoiled from his hand.

"No! Although- oh. I will soon, so-"

"So I'll put a towel over the sheets." He touched her shoulder gently. "No part of you I wouldn't touch. That's what it's like, remember?" _When two people are in love._

"I remember." Buffy licked her lips nervously again. "See- I love this idea. I'm really excited. Because- hey, sexy goodness, and time, and privacy, no Willow bursting in, no skulls in the corner of your bedroom, no coffins in the living room-"

"Must get some slipcovers." He teased and made her smile.

"So it's all good. And I'm freaking. Because- well, because it's never happened before, okay? It's like a first time for me, and I want it to be perfect and like the romance novels that I used to read when my mom didn't know I was reading them because I used a flashlight and read under the-"

"Buffy!" Spike took both of her shoulders and halted her. "I'll make it perfect. If you work with me."

"See, I already know that." Buffy looked up at him, her eyes doing that moist, dewey look that made him get uncomfortably soft hearted and uncomfortably hard cocked. "That's kinda why I'm wigging. I'm about to make love, and it'll be perfect. Because it's with _you_. "_And I'm afraid I'll tell you. Afraid you'll tell me not to._

He smiled one of his rare boyish smiles, blindingly light, nothing dark or sinister like his grins or smirks. "But it's gonna be perfect for both of us. You do it for me, Luv. Even the -" He stopped, not wanting to talk about that softer side of himself, about how even that inexperienced part of him was sure it was perfection with her.

"Even the what?"

"Nothing."

"Something you want to keep a secret? 'Cause we do that. And- that thing I just said about being a big scaredy cat because of this being a first- that's very much on the secret list."

"I know." He looked more serious. "See- you're my first at something, too."

She shook her head. "You don't have to lie to make me relax."

"If you repeat this, I'll kill you. Chipped or not, an' I'll make it hurt." His voice stayed soft but his face went razor sharp. Buffy believed him, but she didn't look scared.

"I promise it stays between us." She swore.

"See- here's the thing. I met Dru, the night she turned me, right?"

"Right..." Buffy nodded slowly.

"An' until Harmony, I was faithful to Dru."

"Uh-huh." Buffy nodded again.

Spike waited. She stared. "Hell. Look, in my day, you didn't sleep with a person 'til you got hitched. Not unless it was a cheap whore and you wanted the pox. You wouldn't catch a nice girl, a girl you could love- doing that without a ring on her finger."

"Okay..." Buffy looked at him completely uncomprehendingly.

"I wasn't married when I met Drusilla." _Please don't make me spell this out...Why'd she have to go airhead just now?_

"So she was your first. That's good. Your first time was with someone you loved."

"It was. And it was amazing. But the human part of me- he never got to feel what it was like. And never with another human. So you- for me-" He shrugged.

"Oh." Buffy's eyes went even wider, but they sparkled now, a look of affection that was so new, but that he instantly loved. "I was the first human."

"Yeah. An' so- so you an' me already exchanged lots of firsts and you don't have to-" The robe was slowly unknotting now, slowly slipping, revealing spaghetti straps and flowing, fluttering pink silk that only went to the edge of her thighs. "Have to be- nervous. God, Luv." He ran a fingertip along the strap. "You're lovely."

"Thanks. You, too." She leaned into him and kissed him with a little smile. "Do you ever wish? That you could feel it? Like a human?"

"Only since meeting you. I never thought about it before."

"What do you think it'd be like?" She kept kissing him, his jaw, his neck, soft, slow suckling kisses, no teeth, but lots of hands. Hands all over his chest and his hair, undressing him, rolling his shirt up.

"Uh-" She was torturing him with the thoughts of what he couldn't have, but he didn't mind too much. Not with that warm silk skin caressing him. "Warmer. Wetter. Pulsing. Not just when I cum, I know for some reason that still works, but- but all of me. heart and lungs. I'd get breathless. And you'd feel my heart beating for you. Think you deserve that."

Buffy pulled back and shook her head at him. "I was right. It's perfect. It's like the romance novel already." She seized his hand. "Come on."

"What are we-"

"Go eat. All of it."

"What?"

"You're warmest after you eat, I know that. See- I'm not a total slayer slacker." She nudged him away.

"But why do I need to be warm?" He let her jab him in his lower back, little jabs to get him moving even though he kept trying to turn around and talk to her.

"William. Trust me." Buffy whispered and kissed him again, pushing him out the door. She heard him thundering down the stairs and she thought fast. _Warmer. Wetter. Pulsing, breathing, beating. We can do some of that._ She grabbed two of the lit candles and headed to the bathroom. She turned the shower on full hot, making steam spread instantly, then turned it down and went to retrieve more candles.

When Spike returned, full and feeling decidedly more aroused because of all the heat flooding through his empty veins, he was surprised to find the bedroom empty and dark. He followed the sound of running water to the bathroom and opened the door slowly. "Can I come in? Are you in here?" He peered through the steam.

"I'm right here." Buffy laughed and he heard the squeak of a valve turning. "Too hot. I don't want us to burn up."

"Oh, I'm on fire, Luv. So what's the game?"

"No game." She touched his bare chest with both palms. "I know I can never make you human, or give you anything like that- but you do get warmer in hot water. I remember after the shower you took at the dorm."

"I do absorb the temperature of the room. And who's in it." He took her hands.

"I thought we'd try to get you warm and wet. And I'd do my best to pulse and breathe and beat for you. Everyone deserves a first time with someone they love. I'm glad we got that. At least part of ourselves got that. I just thought- well, we try stuff." _I'd try to give the human side a first time. A first time with someone who loves him. Maybe with someone who he loves?_

Spike swooped her up in both arms, kissing her lips, chin, down her neck until he buried her head against her cleavage, at her heartbeat. "Why do you give me something so good?" He suddenly whispered.

"Because I want to." She clasped him tightly. "Why do you give me something so good right back?"

"Because of how I feel." He looked up at her. "Buffy."

"Shh. William. Come closer."

"I'm as close as it gets." He licked the line of her breast as it bulged over the top of her thin gown.

"No. No, when we're together. That's closer."

"Alright, let me just get these off, an' we'll -" Spike stopped when Buffy shook her head at him. "What now?"

"You don't have to go tough guy on me. I understand how badass you are. That soft stuff isn't supposed to be for me. But we don't do right and wrong, and Dru's not here. I am." She felt her heartbeat speed up ridiculously at how much she was showing him, offering him, how many walls she was destroying that she couldn't rebuild. "How about if you don't make yourself have a vampire front? You can just be William, you can just be human. You don't have to have demon strength to make me happy or give me pleasure. I can just be Buffy, just a girl."

"You know we don't want to pretend too much,Luv." He warned her, even though it was so tempting. He hadn't let his guard down in so long. Only with Dru, and look how bad it hurt. Why should he trust her with the only good piece of himself he had left, maybe the only good piece he'd ever had?

"I didn't think it'd be pretending to make love with you like that. I just thought it would be more about our human halves." Her voice dropped and trembled._ But that's that silly teen thinking. That's a thought Angel'd love to rub in your face, tell you how stupid it is to ever think you could separate out bits and pieces of yourself or anyone else._

"I'm scared I'll ruin the only chance I have left." He whispered, startling her.

" 'Cause I don't think I know how- anymore. To be that good man, the gentle man. Even with Dru. I was her prince, but I was her dark, vampiric prince. No question of me an' her bein' anything but two demons in love."

"Why do you think you only get one chance? I thought we believed in giving a lot of chances. Besides- I don't think anyone knows everything the first time, right?" She bit her lip and nodded at him. "I just wanted to-"_ To love you. But I can't tell you that. There's so much we swore never to feel that we've felt, swore not to say, that we've already said. That's just one phrase too many._

"To show me?"

"To show you."_ That I love you. Why the hell do I love him, or think that? It doesn't matter, as long as I don't tell him. I just want to show him._

"You'll get me hooked on this. And I won't be able to go away. I'll turn into that lap dog that belongs to Dru." He warned, shaking his head, holding himself back.

"You'll never be anything like that to me. You'll just be my friend and my lover. And I don't want you to go away. I finally came home. You're not supposed to leave me, Spike." She let out a half sob and lunged at him, arms around him so tight that she heard him gasp, even though he didn't have any air to lose. "Never leave me?"

"Never leave you."_ Even for my dark goddess. I can't go back to the cold now, not once I've bathed in so much warmth. God have mercy on me, a demon. I don't know what you're playing at up there. But to make a soulless monster fall in love with the one chosen to kill him? You're a real funny guy. Ah, well. I died for love before. Do it again if I have to._

"You don't have to be good- good doesn't matter in here." Buffy worked with him, undoing his belt, feeling his hands cupping her cheeks, flirting with the silk.

"I know. But he was- I was. Once. I was someone's son. I took care of my mum. I went to university, I finished my degree, and I was in love. I was in love and I told her, poured my heart out and she laughed. 'Cause I was some weak little good boy, in love with love, and nothing more. When Dru said she knew I was for her, that she'd been called to me, to my love- ahhh." He sighed into her hair. "I jumped at it. Was as bad as possible to be in love. To stay in love and I loved the power. I still love it. I love the demon now, the evil, and the pain, the blood...But once- once upon a time in another broken fairytale- I was a good man. Maybe I'd have been good enough for someone like you."

"You don't have to be good enough or bad enough to be loved You don't have to be good enough or bad enough for me. You're just for me. Just be for me?"

"Only if you're for me, too." He slid his hands all the way down her back, absorbing her heat, feeling blood run through him, hot and alive. Almost alive. This was close enough. All of it, all of it, was close enough.

"I am. I- I didn't want to be, but you're just- perfect? In a way, a screwed up way, and I didn't think it would happen. I just got closer and closer and then-"

"We fell." Spike's hands made a track down now, and slipped the silk to the floor in unison with her hands pushing his jeans away.

Her breath caught. _If he says we fell, it means him, too. But no, don't fall, falling hurts. Must be why they say that. Not 'walked in love', or 'grew in love'. No, they say fall. Because you get hurt, and you can hurt each other._ "Not fall. Falls leaves bruises." She traced his softened mouth, with its nervous set. "No falling."

"So you got closer and closer-"

"And I came to you. And you came to me. No one fell. Just- just coming closer."

"You that scared of one word?" He whispered, listening to her accelerated breathing.

"No. That scared of what happens after you say the word."

"So we won't say it."

"But you feel it?" Buffy's breathing became as absent as his own.

"What happens if I said no?" Spike murmured after a second.

Her heart crumpled into a little ball, but she looked into his eyes, such amazing eyes that showed so much. Somehow, her friend was still inside. A jerky, cocky, wonderful, save your life, make you want to gag him or possibly kill him kind of friend. "Then you say 's all." She kissed him. Still her Spike, however the hell that had happened.

"What if I said yes?"

"Then you'd say yes. And maybe I'd start pushing you into the shower a little harder." She laughed.

What the hell. You're the big bad. You aren't afraid of a little pain, are you? Step up or forever be that nancy boy, made in some dark London street. You're better than that. She deserves better than that. "I was just checking. Yes."

_And breathing resumes._ Buffy let out a shaking laugh and was so glad he still had his arms around her, because her knees gave out.

"Oops, there, steady on your pins, Luv. Fine way to start a first time. With you swooning."

"Oh, but William- you would've make me swoon. I bet you made all the girls faint. Or blush. Giggle. Get all tongue tied."

Spike shook his head. "Not as much as you'd think."

"Well- first time for everything, right?"

Spike stepped out of his boots and jeans like he was shedding a second skin, a covering of his true self. Just be William for a minute, take the time, find the boy... Shouldn't bee too hard- you were always the same in one way. How you loved someone. With all of yourself.

Buffy felt him relax and sink his head against her , lips were softer, not as hard against her. "Hello, my love." He smiled into her eyes.

"Come here, William." She paused before speaking, she didn't want to start off by calling him an endearment Drusilla had used. But nothing else fit so well as "My William" or "Sweet William." Words tripped and stumbled out breathlessly when he caught her up in his arms and lifted her in to the hot shower, pushing them under the stream. "One and only William." She gasped out, mouth suddenly full of water. She laughed and spat and he splashed her and picked her up again. "Look at you. You look- you look different. Happier." His face had the gentle, relaxed look to it.

"I am different. For now."

"Now is good." She encouraged, biting her lip in a sudden flurry of nerves. He was pressing her into the wall, her legs were buckling as his hands smoothed wonderingly over her stomach, like he'd never felt her before.

"You were right." Spike basked in the steam, breathing it in with his forced inhalations. "This is closer to human. Softer, hotter, wetter. More what you feel like."

"Really? Let me see." She let her hands slowly explore, staying away from the hardness between his legs. His muscles felt like the consistency they took on after one of their several hour long "shag-a-thons". More relaxed and supple, not how they felt at the beginning, when both of them were usually covered in tension or adrenaline of one kind or another. "You're all squishy and relaxed." She laughed up at him.

"Hmm- you're all squishy yourself." He cupped on breast and lightly squeezed. "Did I ever mention what simply glorious little globes you've got?"

"You said nice tits." Buffy teasingly reminded him.

"Well, that was a rotten description. These are beautiful. All of you is beautiful. Like a golden angel come to earth."

Buffy blinked and stared at him. "Your last name wasn't Shakespeare, right? 'Cause I thought he was bald."

"And dead a few centuries before I was born, Buffy. I see I have to add English lit to your lesson list."

"But you talk like-"

"Like a poet or a good writer. You told me before."

"What were you? William, what did he- I mean- you- do?"

"Devoted my life to trying to express feelings on paper." He finally admitted.

"So a poet or a writer?" She pressed.

"Buffy..."

"Tell me!"

"I wrote poetry, but as a hobby, not a living, never had anything published, and I don't want to talk about it." He growled a bit at the end and she pouted. "Oh, Precious. Don't do that."

"But I love your words. No one says things like that anymore. Especially not to me. I wish they did, though. I wish I could do that." She wheedled.

"I'll give you millions of pretty words, Buffy. You just can't repeat them."

"Nope. They're just for me." She hugged herself happily. "Oh, God. I'm acting like such a - a-"

"A flustered young woman. With a man. Together, just the two of them, in an intimate position. Flustered would be appropriate." He chuckled a different chuckle, not his usual dark and syrupy, instead light and happy.

"Why aren't you flustered?" She blushed.

"Who says I'm not?" He kissed her breast again, rubbing warm skin to warm skin, feeling her let go, inch by inch. "I'm still getting used to this. Should have thought of it before."

"We weren't together before. It wouldn't have felt right."

"This feels perfect." Spike whispered, slowly closing his lips over a nipple and sighing contentedly. "What pretty little rosebud tips. On honeyed peaks. And this curve here," he ran his tongue from throat to shoulder, "only angels could carve like this."

"You have to stop talking." Buffy suddenly hissed.

"Why?" Spike felt like he'd been smacked in the face.

"Because I'm going to go real girly and squeal, stammer, and swoon in about three seconds if you keep going."

"Well- I do want you on your back." He purred.

"In here? There's no room."

"Then we'll squeeze in." Spike insisted. Buffy giggled and sighed, and he did forget to speak, for several minutes, while she explored with a body that felt warm, that could almost have been alive.

She touched him, slowly, watching him, looking at that expressive face change like he'd never been touched. _He's been touched plenty. But it never felt like this. Even if he and Drusilla drowned themselves in hot water and saunas, they'd still be dead on dead. At least I make him feel alive, because I still am. I might not have been, if he hadn't gotten in front of Adam. He saved me. For someone who's a bad guy- he does an awful lot of good lately._

It was Spike's turn to sink back helplessly against the wall, watching her work her mouth on him, lingeringly, torturously. He felt himself throb and twitch and clench, hot muscles meeting hot wetness. _I wouldn't have done this back then... No, sod that, I would have. I would have touched and licked and devoured every inch of the woman I loved. I might have been the most quiet bloke on the outside, but I knew how to love. Maybe that's why Dru wanted me._

"Don't go too far inside yourself." Buffy paused, climbing her way back up him.

"Huh?" He was startled.

"Don't go too far. Unless you take me with you."

Spike stroked back her wet hair, going into a kneeling position, about to return the favor she'd just granted him. "You know, half the things we get up to would have been considered sinful. This for example- I'm sure it wasn't done." He parted her folds with his tongue and drank greedily, watching her thighs spread and back arch. He caught one of her legs and lifted it over his strong shoulder, leaving her to use the wall and her grasping hands for balance.

"Well... Things change. Oh God! So glad they changed!" Buffy moaned and bucked her tight nub into his mouth, not caring anymore what he did because it always felt good. One finger, two fingers, part of a third invaded her, stretching her and she whimpered in a good way. "Go on, push." She panted.

"Can't hurt you."

"You won't. Please. Please, Baby, I can take it." She sank her hips down and his ring finger slid in. For a second she trembled her walls around him and then gyrated slowly.

"And that would've been a sin, too." Spike licked his lips and watched her fucking herself on his hand, starting to pump his wrist in time with her.

"Is there a point or are we Just going to try out all the sin list? 'Cause that might be fun." She panted sharply as his fingers twisted and grazed the rough patch on her upper wall, making her start to burn and ache.

"I think I would've done this. All this 'sinful' stuff, even then, as a good man. 'Cause I would've given my all to the girl I loved. I wondered if- if that's why she picked me." He laid his head on her smooth taut stomach and felt a wave of sadness crest over him. _Shouldn't think of her. Not now. That's not fair to Buffy, I'm s'posed to give her my all right now._

"I know that's why she picked you. She looked at you and said- that's the one who would die for me, and kill for me and love me eternally." Buffy slowly slid from his hand, kneeling to speak to him face to face. "And you did that."

"So what the hell happened?" Spike winced. Drusilla' accusations, her "visions" of him being covered in the Slayer taunted him. He licked his fingers free of her salty sweetness. Covered he was. Damn Dru. Her visions were always right- even if it was in a sick and twisted way. He'd loved that about her...but apparently hadn't loved her enough. "Why didn't she keep thinking that way?"

"Sometimes people are stupid." Buffy finally said after a moment of trying to think of something comforting and consoling. Spike barked out a short laugh and she hugged him. "I wish I had a better answer, Baby."

"That's alright, Luv. Finding myself suddenly very distracted." Spike's hardness wedged between their bodies and they swayed as they embraced. Hot flesh to hot flesh... yes. Oh, the cold to hot made a different, more brutal, more bracing sensation. Something raw and sexual that cried out and reminded him he was a demon and vampire, plundering something alive. But this- this was good. It would last longer, too, nice and slow and sweet, heat to heat.

"I guess there is room in here after all." Buffy giggled, sliding down under him, back to the cold tile, and feeling Spike pressing into her, for the first time feeling more human than vampire. _Never thought I'd get here again. Looking up at someone I feel like this about. A second first time, all over again._ She sighed and wriggled. "Does it feel any different? Or was I just having stupid ideas?"

"Oh, it feels different." _In so many ways. Like looking at her for the first time. Hundred some years ago- a good man might've won the girl's heart. But he'd never have held the Slayer. I am what I am for a reason. Maybe she's the reason. That there's still enough love inside something so evil- that we just sort of blur and blend and cross the lines, walk between worlds whenever we're alone together._

Spike lined himself up and sank into her tight little chasm, inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter, all the control in the world tied up in his hips, easing down on her.

Buffy's breath took a vacation again, holding still except for a quivering inside, where he was pushing home so slowly it almost hurt, almost made her scream that she needed him to get inside and fill her up already, dammit! But she held still and watched his neck stiffen and shoulders roll. "Oh, God. Oh... God, yes." Spike purred, rolling his head from side to side.

"Good, William?" Buffy teased, finally able to speak as he bottomed out inside her.

"About to get better." He pumped and watched her head start to loll, the way his had done. Snuggling down on her, crunched tight in the narrow space, he let himself enjoy, made sure she was enjoying, too.

Buffy eventually had to let out a mewl of protest. "Humans don't have this kind of stamina." She whimpered after what seemed like hours but was really many long minutes, as Spike was leisurely sinking in and out of her, gliding fingers round her nub or nibbling her breasts, murmuring phrases that she seriously considered having tattooed on her because they were so beautiful. But it had been a very, very long time and he kept taking her to the brink and not letting her go over it. Well- not the way she'd gotten used to. _He's spoiled me for life. The jerk. I bet he'd be all pleased with himself. Jerk- sweet, amazing, awesome, jerk. Oh, no more thinking, just feeling..._ "Humans would've been done ten minutes ago." She half-praised, half-protested.

"Can I help it if I'm as gifted as you are? You keep goin' an' goin'. Quite the little rabbit, you are."

"But-" She bit her lip. She didn't want to say she needed it just a little harder and faster, and ruin his good time. Or make them go back into superhuman strength territory.

Spike cocked his head. "Is it better cold?" He asked softly, reading a faint wanting in her pretty face.

"No. No, it's so good, hot, cold, warm, all of it."

"Tell me what you need."

"I don't want to tell you anything- I just wanted to let you enjoy." She said with earnest selflessness.

"Oh, Pet- I'm enjoying." He wanted to prolong this moment for hours- or until they emptied the hot water tank completely. Steaming water coursed down his back, keeping their heads free from the stream, and he shielded her from the cold tiles with his arms now, crossing them under her back. It was the closest he'd felt to being alive in over a century- but it didn't mean anything if she wasn't happy, too. "What about you?"

"Enjoying! Very enjoying." She moved her hips restlessly. _Something's wrong with me. He gets me so close and it's so good- and I have all these little quasi-orgasms- which is more than I ever had with Riley. So why am I all pouty 'cause I haven't had the big blow out yet? Spike's right, (the world must be ending) I do rush. He'll get me there- in time._

Spike peered down at her. "Mind if I try somethin' out?"

"Sure, Baby." Buffy let him rearrange their bodies slightly, sitting her up more, draping both her calves over his elbows as he kneeled between her legs. "Ooh. This looks fun."

"Hope so." He wiggled back, so the hot water sprayed over him and over her torso, not hitting her face. Her nipples stood high and wet and erect- like her swollen little nub from all his slow, steady pounding.

_He's so gorgeous. The way the water beads up on him, and runs down._ Buffy licked her lips and let one hand wander down to where he was joining her. "Sexy, sweet William. My hunk of the month calendar guy." She playfully teased and traced the place where they coupled.

"Just a month?" He slammed into her harder than he had been, now having more traction.

"All the months- oooh, yes. Ooh, yes." Buffy's fingers hesitantly tapped her clit, and then reluctantly pulled away.

"Why- where're you takin' that?" Spike snared her hand and plopped it back over her split sex, holding it in place.

"Not supposed to- well- you know, I didn't want you to think I needed the push." She blushed.

Spike's face hardened into a very badass smirk before it softened. "Oh, Luv- you needed a push all this time? Here I was workin' so hard to keep it slow an' steady. For the normal girl side."

Buffy gaped. "I was all passive- submissive woman because I thought that's what- what the women were like then. That your human side would've wanted to be all alpha male. And I didn't mind doing it that way." She realized. "Because I know you don't think that's all I am." Spike nodded at her. She knew he realized how much that kind of understanding, about who they both were, what they both wanted to give each other meant.

"We're bloody stupid for such brilliant people." Spike dug his hands gently into her thighs. "You're right, I do want to be the one to make you cum, and I did want you under me, so I could revel in all this hot, wet skin." He stroked his hands up her chest, ending with a subtle pinch on each nipple. He clamped his fingers down softly on her peaks and massaged. "But I think we can still have that with us going a bit harder..." He drew her up closer to herself, pushing her hand from her swollen lips first. "How about if I give you a nice juicy one to start- then you can give yourself that 'push'? Hmm?" He kissed her forehead leaning over her, smiling as they brushed noses.

"I think the vampy side has all the strength and the fancy moves- but William taught him how to play his cards right." She giggled and arched, letting herself really start to move with him.

He pounded in, still more slowly, but much harder. The heat, instead of vanishing like he'd feared, spread and doubled. He could hear the soft squelch of her receiving each thrust, hear her heartbeat start zooming against her ribs.

"Breathe." Buffy suddenly whispered.

"I don't-"

"Pull in the air, the steam. You'll feel warmer inside." Buffy moaned.

Spike obeyed, and he did feel it, warmer, wetter inside. And the sensation of his chest expanding made the moment better. "I'm breathin' with you." He whispered in awe. He laughed and the sound bounced off the tiles.

Buffy watched him smiling over her, looking so happy to just have this one little charade of feeling alive. It broke her heart and sewed up old wounds all at once. She wanted so much, right then, to say it. Because right then, she did. Love him. "I'm so glad." She caught his hand and pulled it over top of her heart. "That's beating. Beating for you. And I'm breathing for you, too."

More than anything else, at that moment, Spike wanted to say he loved the girl. Somehow, some fucked up way, he'd gone and lost his heart- and here she was, handing it back. He smiled and grunted as he picked her up, against his chest so he could kiss her, inhale her, feel the beating against his own chest.

"I know you are." He whispered.

"I really am." She whispered back. Lips locked, they plunged in time to the pulse they both felt. Pump up, slide down, pump up, slide down, harder and faster, in time to her racing heart.

Thud- swish, thud-swish, blood pounding through chambers, ready to burst out and across, to his own heart. "My heart." Spike nuzzled her neck longingly, feeling her start to clench and shake.

"What? What about it?" Buffy felt the world pinpointing down, the only things were this body she held and the pounding that filled her from head to toe, as a wracking orgasm started.

"Nothin'. I'm sayin' it to you. My heart." He moved his head enough to look into the fluttering eyes. "That's you, Luv. My heart."

_I'm someone's heart. Now I know it's going to be okay. He can't leave. 'Cause you can't live without a heart- even if you're technically dead. Vampires can't exist without one. He's really mine._

Spike watched her implode, and held on for the ride, letting go just as she crested off the first one, his own violent pulsing sending her off again.

His seed spurted in her and felt warm for the first time. Not just the first time for them, the first time she'd ever had something warm bursting in her, coating her, warm proof, not that cool to lukewarm sudden added heat made her gasp and writhe, "Spiiike! God, yes, Spike! William, my William." She was frantic and she didn't care if it was unladylike or loud or unreserved.

Apparently he didn't either. "Is that good, Luv? You were waiting so long for that. I'm sorry, Heart, I'll make it up to you." A sincere tone and devilish hands. The perfect combination. Maybe there was something to be said for involving his weaker side more often.

Buffy didn't even have time to say "You don't have to make anything up to me." before she was back in a spread, half reclining position, wet and messy, pearly drops everywhere. Their combined juices made a butterfly across her lips, pooled at his half withdrawn cock, and matted in their curls. For a split second she wanted to close her legs, tell him she was a mess. Until she remembered that's what made it good, if it was messy and if you didn't care. Boy, she so didn't need to care. "What are you- ohhhh. Oh, oh, oh, oh..." Spike's fingers started moving all over her clit and back inside, one slender fingertip joining his cock, leaving her full and stretched and way overstimulated. And she loved it.

"I'll know more next time. How my sweet girl likes it when we take it slow and hot." He purred.

"Spike... you're - you're gonna make me lose my mind." She finally babbled, squirming on him.

"I'll help you find it, Heart."

She tingled when he called her that. She also spasmed. That man had fingertips straight from God or the devil, and she really didn't care at the moment. They started pushing the skin surrounding her clit slowly up and down, milking her turgid bead. "If you don't stop- there's not gonna be a mind left to find. It'll be all kablooied." She panted and started tugging on his still stiff member with her inner walls.

"I'll put it back together again, don't worry about a thing." He laughed softly, watching her cum again, hard and fast, realizing how beautiful this girl was, and how much he meant it. He'd go find anything she'd lost, put together anything she'd broken. "I'm just returning the favor. You already found something of mine I thought was broken and lost."

Buffy managed to control herself long enough to look at him.

"My heart." He smiled at her.

Buffy smiled back, not knowing if he was telling her what she'd found and repaired, or just calling her by the new term of endearment. _It doesn't matter, really. I think they're probably the same thing._

_To be continued... (Head's up- the next chapter's pretty much designated as loving, mushy smut stuff, too.)_


	16. Chapter 16

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: Very mushy and smutty, skim if you gotta. The song "Not Strong Enough", as played by Apocalyptica, is featured here._

_Author's PERSONAL note: I had a massive family crisis, hence the lack of posting or writing thank you notes to my gracious readers. Everyone's okay now, but still hectic over here at writing central. I hope to get back to posting an update every week to ten days. Thanks for hanging in there._

_Dedicated to ginar369- who reviews like nobody's buisiness!, Lithium Reaper- my Muse Gal, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Sundance22, Lalabuff, Sweet- T3, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21,Little Missy123, twotoe, MMWillow, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, sbyamibakura, kristendotcom,and Les Roi des Ombres_

_I do so love all of you, my devoted readers and reviewers. All my work goes out to you._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XVI

"Blood's wearin' off." Spike murmured a short time later, wrapped in a towel, watching her slowly dry off, fiddle with that long mass of hair. "I'm gonna feel colder than human again." _But at least the human part finally got to feel- feel something close to life, makin' love almost like bein' alive._ Who'd have thought that the girl he was sure was a superficial little airhead had thought up that plan, helped him create a pseudo-first time as a human. How odd Miss Stuck Up with a Stake would ever tell him she would separate out the man from the monster- not that it really mattered to her. How odd that she- loved him. In some way.

"I don't mind the change." Buffy gave him a smile over her shoulder, and his eyes focused on hers with a start, like he'd been far away. "It's actually- familiar. I like it."

" 'Cause it feels like him." Spike muttered to himself, introspection taking a suddenly more bitter turn. They might be in some unspoken sort of agreement to feel love but never admit it, but he shouldn't let himself forget where things stood. He wasn't a replacement anymore, but he was going to be compared. Well, fair enough, he supposed. He compared her to Drusilla quite a bit. The unsettling part was that Buffy was starting to pull even, sometimes even ahead.

"What was that?" Buffy turned from the mirror with one final fluff of her hair. She thought she heard him mumble something, and she was pretty sure what. But she honestly hoped he hadn't said that.

"Nothin'." He shrugged and smiled at her. "Ready for more?"

"In a minute." Buffy walked slowly to him, unsure why she was going to make a big deal out of this, and really wishing she wasn't. "It feels familiar- your skin?" She grazed his shoulder with her fingertips. "Because it's you. It used to be because of Angel." She looked down at the knot in her towel, oddly enough, fixed over her heart. _A knot over a knot, check out the symbolism..._ She shook herself. "Now it's because it feels like you. It brings up- this so weird- more good memories than bad."

"Comforts?" He tipped his head forward to get his gaze under hers.

"Yeah. Other things, too. I just- I like it. I prefer it. I want it. I... love it." She blinked into his dark blue eyes. "Don't you dare tell anyone about that though." She warned with a sudden pout.

"Our secret... Heart." He tacked on her new pet name and she melted, literally and figuratively, straddling his lap suddenly, and kissing him.

"You still feel warm enough to me." She ran her hands along his back.

" 'Cause I'm so close to you. Been in you." He pressed against her. The change in temperature was more noticeable to him now, and he craved her heat again. It'd go back to that hard, pounding, not-unloving, not quite gentle contact. And they weren't supposed to do that. They were supposed to take the day to revel in each other, in what they had left. He had to stop himself a bit, slow it down again.

"What's wrong?" Buffy demanded when he stopped his frantic pawing, her towel half undone, one bare breast pressing to his shoulder.

Spike mouthed the swollen nipple and moaned when she dug her nails in with a yelp. "Hell, Slayer..."

"Your own fault. You have that vampire agility, even in your tongue . That's just creepy. Good creepy." She arched when his tongue swirled and pulled on the tip.

"We have the whole rest of the afternoon. Don't want to rush. This is s'posed to be special."

"But- we already- in the shower." Buffy's brow crinkled. "I already had the nighty on. Now it's off."

"So what? Things can only go one direction?" He tilted his head at her quizzically.

"It's foreplay if it's before sex. Before the sex starts." With them it was kind of a marathon once things began so...

"So you were givin' up all the sweet, slow massages- so I could do my 'I'm a real boy' thing in the shower?"

"No... I just figured... maybe it wouldn't be today, but that didn't matter, because what we did was yummy and important. Emphasis on yummy." She smiled.

"You aren't as self-absorbed as I thought." Spike was forced to admit, grudgingly, a small ripple of playfulness under his words.

"You're not a totally obnoxious- in here- either." Buffy shook the towel off of her completely, with more confidence than she'd ever felt about herself. You couldn't feel anything but beautiful after Spike had given you the most beautiful, poetic compliments.

Spike ran his hands slowly up her back starting at hips, ending at shoulder blades, hands cupping the satiny back. "Hmm, thank you very much." They smirked at each other, and he could feel himself slipping into that slow, lazy frame of mind, all about prolonging the pleasure, wanting to plaster the smirk to both their faces for hours, teasing, tasting, touching. "Here's how it works if you're doin' it right, Luv. You can knock hell out of each other, you can have all the foreplay in the world, all the sheet soakin' sex you want- and then start over at any point. Slow, hard, fast, easy... foreplay doesn't have to happen just the once." He crossed his wrists behind her neck and watched her lean back, riding his knee with a little swirl in her hips.

"We're like the universal remote of sex? We have instant replay and rewind functions?" She asked teasingly. Spike groaned and laughed at the same time. "Sorry, I don't mean to seem goofy." She stroked her fingers through his damp, slicked back hair. "That's just how it's usually been. We get down to it... we hit the loop button. We do the good stuff over, and over, and over." She nudged her sex to his knee on each word, making both of their eyes flutter shut happily.

"Yeah, but we never had planned a day of the slow, sweet stuff before." He reminded her. "We're gonna do everything we wanted to do."

Buffy kissed him silently. _Everything we wanted to do. I wanted to do this with Angel, he wanted to do this with Drusilla. And we can't. I wanted this to be how it was, this is my fantasy, a guy who wants to make love all day, not just have sex, but start over each time, make every time mean something. And then not care when I pull on my super girl outfit, race out and kill something, come back and just pound each other into the mattress until the post-slayage adrenaline goes away. This shouldn't be with Spike._

_But he's the only one who ever understood it, ever offered it. That's why I- why I could love him._

Spike sighed as she broke her long, probing kiss. "Does that mean you're ready to rewind, Luv?"

"Rewind, heck, let's put everything in slow mo." She let herself go limp over his arm and he swung her back over onto the mattress. "I'm going to see if the radio still works on the stereo- you know, after I kinda dropped it earlier? You want the candles?"

"I'll get 'em." Spike stood up, and looked down on her relaxed form as it sprawled on the bed. Such a wistful, dreamy look on her face. Like no one had ever taken the time to make love about making love, about being together. Like it was special. Like she was special. "Sorry, Slayer." He murmured.

"Huh?" Buffy blinked up at him.

"That you had to wait for someone like me to give you what you should've had a long time ago."

Buffy knew what he meant. She'd made sex something physical and carefully limited emotionally with Riley and Parker, because love was for Angel, and sex- well sex was obviously something different from making love, and she couldn't make what she didn't feel. Parker hadn't wanted to do this romantic stuff, and Riley might have- if they hadn't somehow screwed up and managed to fall apart.

"I don't mind it being you." Buffy sat up and pushed herself off the bed, heading to the stereo. Spike watched her, open mouthed. He hadn't expected that remark. "Yeah, I wish it had happened earlier." She looked over her shoulder, a quiet, melancholy smile on her face. "But it would have to be you, so I had to wait."

"Had to be-"

"You. Yeah. Because you're the only one who understand what it's supposed to be like. You know how to really love someone." She met his eye for a second and turned away.

_Know how to really love..._ Spike swallowed and hurriedly left to retrieve the candles._ 'Cause I love her. 'Cause I loved as a man and a demon, and I can love her all sweet an' I can love her like the hellcat she keeps inside. Sod it. I can love her. That wasn't supposed to happen._ Strange fire burned inside his mind and chest._ But I'm startin' to be bloody glad it did. he elbowed open the door._

The lights went off, the music crackled to life, some soft rock station that was strictly for background, and the bottle of vanilla lotion rested on the pillow. "Ready to start over?" Buffy purred as he slid in bed beside her.

"I am, if you are." He paused over top of her._ In more way that one do I want to start over..._

Buffy's eyes were luminous in the half light, suddenly so wide and so ensnaring, pulling the man above her into their depths. "I'm ready." She whispered. _In more ways than one._

* * *

><p>"One more place left to massage. Actually, two, if you let me." Spike wiped his slick hands off on one of the towels they'd left on the edge of the bed. He was relaxed and pliant, thoroughly rubbed down, both of them were. The air was heavy with the perfume of scented candles and vanilla, the entire atmosphere was one of peace, with hints of anticipation.<p>

"What place is that?" Buffy mumbled into the pillow, arching her back into his palms.

"Just relax." Spike brushed a kiss over her shoulder, but lightly. They'd found out the hard way not to linger over the lotioned skin when Buffy's massage became intimate, turned into pumping his cock with her silky hands, massaging him erotically- and she'd forgot about what she was smearing him with when she slid her mouth over his shaft. Her splutters were comical, but they did spoil the mood.

"I'm _so_ relaxed. If relaxing were an olympic sport, I would be the gold medalist." She sighed contentedly.

Spike chortled in a self-satisfied way. "An' I suppose I'm the coach?"

"No, you're the other finalist. It's a team sport." She murmured, swatting her hand back to connect with his sinewy forearm. "Like ice skating partners." She mumbled dreamily.

"Mm, I see." He slipped his hand between her thighs, loving the way the wriggled open for him instantly. "An' how're we doin' in the pleasure event?"

"Swept the boards, all the other competitors left in disgrace." She giggled.

"The judges haven't seen anything yet." Spike lay halfway across her, arm bending at the elbow, one fingertip working inside her tight, wet tunnel. Buffy made a muted cry of enjoyment and he nuzzled his head to her lower back. "Give me a few minutes. I'm tryin' to remember how this goes... only done it a few times."

Buffy moaned. "Take all the time you want. Seriously. Please." They laughed together in the warm room, soft chuckles, soft touches. _This is what it's supposed to be like. How come every time we do something, no matter what it is, that's how I feel? That everything's the way it's supposed to be? The wrong one isn't supposed to be the right one._

_More proof we live on a Hellmouth. Or maybe just more evidence of Spike being Spike. He never does what he's supposed to. For the guy who's not supposed to be the right one, he totally is._

Spike's words brought her out of her split second sprint into deep thought and took her back to the physical world immediately. "Don't worry, Luv. I won't rush- that's _your_ trick." He teased. "But eventually you have to roll over. Gotta do it face up for the good stuff." Spike slipped his finger in a slow, gentle circle inside her, stroking the walls inside deliberately, making sure they moved slightly under his touch.

"_This_ isn't the good stuff? 'Cause you could've fooled me. What the hell is this supposed to be if it's isn't the good stuff?" Buffy demanded with another moan, babbling, eyes closing. She was so relaxed that she didn't even mind the deep, intimate probing sensation, touching inside to be touched. It felt strange, but amazing. She was used to being touched to make her wet, make her cum, make her start to feel pleasure... this was touching for the sake of touch and it was incredible anyway.

"This is somethin' I read about. It's s'posed to relieve tension related to- all sorts of girly things." He coughed slightly, and stopped the circular motion, now changing it to slow, sure strokes starting inside and pulling down and out to her opening. "First you take away the pressure, then you add the pleasure."

"Poetic." She moved on his hand.

"Doesn't rhyme in Hindi." He muttered and then nipped her buttock. "Stop movin'! At least durin' this part." He scolded.

"You didn't hold still when I was massaging_ your_ pleasure buttons." Buffy grumbled.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet in terms of 'pleasure buttons'." Spike rasped, leaning his head up high on her back in one fluid motion. "That comes next. If you're a good girl."

Buffy felt a small flash of stubbornness attack her. She would never be a "good girl" to get what Spike was offering._ Like I'm his pet, and I'll get a treat. I don't hold still for evil, cocky jerk vampires- even if he's so amazing to me..._

Spike's voice eradicated the mutinous feeling she'd just had. "You're all tense sometimes. Wish I had a switch that'd make it better. That'd take the pain out." He was still rubbing inside, firm, long strokes in small circles, strong but not painful. Buffy felt any remaining vestige of tension slip from her. "Guess this is the best I can do. An' guess this is proof of what I told you. About parts. That there's no part two people shouldn't touch, shouldn't love..."

Buffy gasped softly as one fingertip slid over her crinkled bundle of nerves on the upper vaginal wall. "You don't have to- feel that way- about me." She reminded him, losing herself in a haze of want, hesitant proddings of love, and faint warnings of self-denial. Even if all her fears were put to rest by his obviously kind intentions, she still knew that she was going headlong into a forbidden place, and she tried to resist it. Oddly enough, this time it wasn't for her sake. It was for his.

"But I do. Feel that way." Spike smoothed the outer lips now, and trailed up and down, circling, tapping, teasing.

"What if I don't give back what you give me?" Buffy wrenched herself up and twisted to look at him.

"You already do." Spike pushed her shoulders down with a soft smile. "Don't you, _Heart_?" She fixed it up, his broken heart, at least a patch job. He risked looking a chief chump in front of her, and she hadn't hurt him for it- not on purpose. When she had, when she'd left, she'd come back and promised never to let him go.

_His heart. Me. I'm the vital organ, dead or alive, can't exist without it. I'm- his _heart_. Finally, someone sees that he needs me, as much as I need him. No running away. Leaving when he feels like it, no goodbyes. And no more me being caution gal._ Buffy sighed. "You fight dirty." She smiled slightly.

"I know that, Slayer. Why do you think you haven't killed me yet?" He licked his lips with a feline grin, and then slid two fingers back into the honeypot he'd been plundering.

"Because I'm really, really, nice." Buffy groaned. "Nothing to do with you, Smartypants."

"Well, then- consider this a thank you." He moved artfully inside her with his penetrating fingers.

"You don't have to thank me for that. I think- freaky as it is- that we're kind of even lately."

"We'll see if I can't earn a few bonus points then." Spike teased and leaned his head closer to hers. His wrist bent and his fingers curled inside. Nice and slow and steady, always finding that little cluster of extra sensitive flesh. He smirked into her open mouth as she grabbed him and kissed him hard. He was gonna take his time. Who said he'd gone soft on the girl? Aside from himself, a nagging thought prickled him.

He pushed the prickling thought away. No. He was still a wicked, wicked man. There was more than one way to make a slayer scream.

Buffy's head thrashed around almost immediately and she bit her lip.

"There. Feel nice?"

"Uh- that word didn't come to mind." She squeaked.

His dark brows crinkled and his hand stopped. So much for making her scream. "You alright?"

"Nice doesn't come to mind because- it's so much better than nice..." She squeezed down on his fingers to make him start probing and playing again. "How'd you learn to- never mind, don't tell me, just keep doing it."

"I will." Spike rotated his thumb to rest on her nub and watched her twitch, hazy green eyes fluttering at him as she felt sensations overtaking her.

"I owe you one." Buffy twisted her hips encouragingly.

"You'll owe me a half dozen when I'm done." He sank his head back down into the region where his hands was busily working.

"You're earning them." Buffy gasped out when his lips started pressing kisses down across her stomach and across her mound.

_Goddamn it._ The softness was coming back, sinking him, drowning him. "I don't want to be owed a thing, Slayer. Consider it a gift, Luv."

Her throat tightened suddenly. "Okay. Thank you." She looked at him, worshipping her, but not making it look like open adoration. Just making it look- easy. Like it was the simplest thing to make love, like everything was supposed to be simple and pleasurable and wonderful. After all, they'd started this crazy thing off saying there wouldn't be any strings attached, not if they chose to be together sometimes, of their own free will, of course, nothing controlling them but themselves.

Now there was only one string attached, by mutual consent but it wasn't one of the tangled, knotted ones. It was a good string, holding them together loosely, but getting tighter all the time.

Spike had struggled for a few silent seconds, torn between what he wanted to say, and being silent, not letting her know he was digging himself in deeper. His wants, as usual, won out. "You don't have to thank me."

"No. I understand that. But I want to. I like to give gifts too, you know."

"You_ are_ a good friend, so gifts seems likely. Seen it with the Scooby set." Spike increased his pace. "Seen it with me, too." He admitted.

There was a brief battle of strength as Buffy tried to pull him up, make the massage turn back into something more obviously of mutual benefit, but it was a friendly contest, and Spike won by trapping her legs with his arm.

"Don't you want your present?" Buffy licked her lips in a way that made Spike reconsider for a moment, but his hand stubbornly played inside her, milking pleasure after wave of pleasure out of her.

"You came home to me. You made me feel alive for the first time in a long time." He blinked reflectively. "Maybe first time I ever felt like that, even when I was human ." He whispered, eyes sliding away from hers. "Think I had my share of prezzies for one day."

"But good lovers anticipate, they give you what you want for, even before you ask for it." Buffy repeated his lesson to her with a smug smile, knowing he'd have to argue against his own words or give in.

"Yeah, but-"

"Spike. Come up here, right now. Please. Didn't you just tell me we could start this over any time we wanted?" Buffy freed her legs, kneeing him in the shoulder but not too hard.

"Yeah, but-" He tried again.

"Pleasure's awesome, but sharing it makes me happier." She whispered insistently.

Well, that decided it. He broke his position smoothly, and moved up beside her, side to side, face to face. "What sickness is this? That I'd do a hell of a lot to make you happy?"

"I don't know. But I caught it. 'Cause I'd do anything- okay, anything non-evil-y, to make you happy, too." She caught his head and kissed him as she arranged her hips over his, pulling him inside.

* * *

><p>"Is it gettin' dark outside?" Spike rolled over from where he was huddled asleep beside his lover, warm and feeling like a million bucks, full of good feelings, inside and out.<p>

"Why?" Buffy demanded sleepily, burrowing back down beside him, pulling the covers over her body.

" 'Cause we're supposed to go save the world, etc. Make it safe for puppies an' Christmas by takin' the mad science project off the streets. Once it gets dark an' we can start searchin' the woods or beatin' the info out of the nocturnal set."

She peeped her head out. "It's not even four. And it's staying lighter longer. Come back to sleep. You're going to be up all night patrolling."

"Or fuckin' you senseless if we don't find anything better to do." He lightly bit her shoulder, running his hand along her side.

"Not senseless. I am all about having the senses." Buffy's stomach let out a grumble and she whimpered in annoyance. "Why can't the kitchen be closer to the cozy bed?"

"Because we came here, not your dorm." Spike rolled his eyes. "Where the fridge was right in the room _with_ the bed, you silly bint."

"But the dorm doesn't have the possibility of me making my world famous mac and cheese out of a box."

"An' why is that?"

"Because when I microwave the water, it either boils over or doesn't get hot enough and the noodles are sorta crunchy." Buffy confessed sheepishly. Spike guffawed. "You laugh now, but if blood required a stove top-"

"Fine, it's a bloody difficult thing to make, I give. Alright then, let's have some of this magical box food." Spike got up and stretched, naked body rippling in the light of the guttering candles.

"You better put some clothes on." Buffy tried not to stare. She'd seen that body a lot lately, but it still captivated her in it's masculine perfection- and the knowledge it was for her.

"Too much studliness, Slayer?" Spike chuckled and ran a hand seductively across his torso, face transforming into a seductive leer.

Buffy fought down the inclination to join him in the seductive touching department. She laughed shortly. "Too much not wanting to shock and horrify anyone who happens to walk past the windows or knock on the door." She countered and pulled her fuzzy robe on. "Come on. I know all about your little hot cocoa fetish. I'll make you some while I make my cheesy goodness." She walked out ahead of him, pushing the nagging feelings away that kept brimming up as the lust temporarily cleared from her brain. _This is too real, all of it's too real, and yet surreal. Saturday afternoon alone in my house, in my bed, in my kitchen. It's a billion times worse than letting him in the dorm. Why do I keep letting him in more and more-and don't say because you're in love, because I'm not going to listen._

"Next time, I'll cook somethin'. Unlike you, I've mastered the microwave. I jus' need a bowl to mix whatever that cardboard junk you want in." Spike whistled jauntily and strolled behind her, bare chested, barefoot, in jeans that sagged undone, barely clinging to the ridge of his hipbones.

"I don't think you have the right to criticize my food preferences. You're a giant leech." Buffy smiled sweetly over her shoulder.

"Oi! I'm less slimy than that!"

"I don't know..." Buffy turned her back on him and busied herself in the kitchen. She heard Spike huffily shuffling along behind her, muttering under her breath. She laughed. She couldn't remember ever laughing like this with Angel. Just happy. In the face of a huge problem and a scary spell- just happy. In a weird way. Happy. Spike came up behind her and growled something in her ear, words baiting and argumentative, hints of a laugh under them, his hands kneading low on her spine, hard enough to make her feel something, soft enough to make her feel something _good_.

Oh, yes. Definitely happy.

* * *

><p>"You don't seem happy to see me, Brother." Adam's torn face looked impassively at his new arrival.<p>

Riley felt reality thudding coldly into his brain, the haze he'd been fighting off for the last few hours suddenly leaving him. He'd finally arrived at the place he'd been led to, where he'd been walking to all the while unsure of where he was going. "What did- how did- what's going on?" Riley demanded in a confused yet flinty tone.

"I called a family reunion. Just you, Mother, and me." Adam raised a hand towards the darkness of a the strange bunker, set deep in caves, breaching one of the Initiative's unused, uncharted shafts.

"Mother?" Riley jerked his head around, wincing in pain as he did so. "Walsh?"

"Well- what's left of her." Adam said without humor. Walsh shuffled forward, a reanimated body, tubes running along the outside of her chest and neck, eyes filmed and face decomposing.

"What? Oh my God... Professor! Professor Walsh, can you hear me?" Riley hobbled forward and then stopped as if pulled by invisible strings.

"She's only a servant at this point. My lab assistant." Adam looked at Riley fully now, and Riley gagged at the sight of what damage he'd inflicted last night with the grappling hook. "Isn't that a coincidence? According to your disk- you were her lab assistant once. The passage of time, the circle of life. If I had a soul, I'd be quite moved."

"Why do you want me here? If you can turn dead people into machines like that, why do you need live ones?" Riley closed his eyes to Walsh's lifeless face and Adam's damaged one.

"I'm not in need of more assistants. I didn't even originally want you here at this point. In my first plan, you played a part later on, but the Slayer and Spike, their friends, they've caused me to shift my calculations. Three times now." Adam's voice deepened and hardened. "I do not like when people trifle with my calculations. I am mathematical perfection. Humans have no business interfering." He scowled momentarily.

"That's Buffy for you." Riley said with a bitter smile, forcing his eyes to look unflinchingly at Adam's face, his one red eye now replaced with a small black ball and a mass of corroded looking flesh around it, thanks to him. "Yep. Buffy equals unpredictable. So- she and Spike messed up your plans? Gee, guess I'll have to stop hating them." He paused, sighed, and smiled again, more twisted and pained than before. "Well- that's done."

"Bitterness and jealousy. Useful emotions. When you don't possess them yourself." Adam motioned towards a burnt looking chair. "Sit."

"No."

"_Sit_." Adam glared while pressing a button on his chest. Riley's legs buckled and he sat. "I see your activation switch is going to need to be left on. That slows down my internal processor, but only slightly."

"My _switch_?" Riley's eyes bulged.

"Your chip. The one Mother gave you. Your disk has the command sequence switch, and I activated it, along with your homing device." Adam pointed to the disk drive on his chest and patted it. "I hoped you'd be open to reasonable, logical discussion once you arrived, but..." Adam shrugged. "As I said, leaving it on isn't going to slow down my internal processor much, so I don't mind."

"Reasonable, logical discussion? You're a patchwork of human, demon, and computer parts! You look like what comes out of someone's nightmare! I don't think 'reasonable' enters into this." Riley spat. "And I'm not 'chipped'. Chips are for vampires and demons. I'm getting out of here, and I'm coming back with a squad!"

"Chips are for those who need to be controlled." Adam corrected. Riley grunted and moved an inch or two, but didn't move farther, seemingly unable to. "Mother thought you would follow her blindly. The chip was a precaution. Turns out it was a good idea."

"I am NOT chipped."

"Then why can't you move?" Adam asked softly.

Riley glared. "I can't be, I don't what you've done, but I can't be chipped. I never had surgery. I never-"

"During one of your trainings you were put in a virtual reality sequence with a sensory input helmet. During this time, you went into a twilight state, semi-conscious. At this time, Walsh injected you with local anesthetic and performed an operation similar to putting in a cardiac shunt, only instead a chip was placed on a thoracic nerve and tied into your central nervous system." Adam intoned as if reading from some invisible document. Riley gaped at him. "That's what your case file says."

"She- why would she do that to me?" Riley asked hoarsely, looking at the monster that Walsh had become.

"Emotional reasons. She wanted to keep you for herself. Once you sided with the Slayer, she would activated your chip. Only- well- I killed her first."

Riley managed to rise, but it felt like being submerged in fire. "Bastard!"

"I suppose I am. I don't have parents. I'm plucked out of death, made into life. Like God, I suppose. Only better." He smiled.

Riley looked at Walsh again. "Please tell me you didn't make him that obnoxious. Tell me it's him."

"She can't speak unless I allow it. I do not. She distracts me." Adam pushed Riley gently down in the chair. "Are you done with all your questions, now? I like studying human curiosity, but we do have a lot to do."

"We?"

"Yes. You see, I was planning to get my assembly line together. Machine parts in place, medical supplies in order. Through this shaft is the lab Mother built for us. Well- for me, not exactly for my use. But her plans changed as well." He clicked his fingers and Walsh staggered off. "Spike destroyed this lab. Your men and the Slayer's team destroyed the supply gathering missions I had in place last night. I'll have to attack the Initiative head on, take it over to gain their supplies instead of having my own ready. It means a delay and more risk to the body parts I harvest, but with the high kill count, I imagine it'll be alright."

"And you think I'll help you?" Riley asked incredulously.

"You've already been helping me, even without the activation. The chip still exists, and the steroids and painkillers have been ramping up your aggression levels and inhibiting your impulse controls to extreme levels. I was afraid you'd kill Spike or the Slayer before I brought them in."

Riley's mind whirled. He'd been chipped, and he'd been fed something the fed the chip? His thoughts reeled sharply to another, more sinister thought. Adam wanted Buffy and Spike brought in? Why? "You want them dead?"

"Oh yes. Eventually. I need them for the carnage collection of the final siege first. But then..." He pondered. "I haven't decided what parts of her to keep. Is the soul what makes her the Slayer, or is it the body? If the body is that preternaturally strong, I'll be keeping most of it. If the soul is what grants the power, then I'm throwing the body away. Or perhaps I'll let you have her if she survives the onslaught. Would you like that, Brother?"

Riley roared and rose again, stiffly, unable to move forward, but still upright. "You ever touch her and I'll-"

"I wish humans would pick one emotion and stay with it. Or have none. That's _my_ plan. I thought you hated her?"

"She's being turned, she's not really like this!"

"Your drugs are wearing off. You're becoming more lucid. I don't know if that's good or bad for my purposes." Adam mused. "And she's not being turned. I know what you think is happening, I've seen the evidence of their mating, and the evidence of you keeping surveillance on their primary mating area. But she's not being turned. Vampire semen has no capability of creating a vampire. Even ingesting the blood of a vampire does nothing unless the human they feed is already dying." Riley looked mulish and Adam frowned. "I _do_ research, you know. I'm a scientific being."

Riley paused, and sat of his own free will, making his face blank on purpose. "So she's still the same girl. She wants him. As she is."

"If I dissect them both, I'll let you know if I find some common genetic markers or other tangible proofs. As it is, I'd say they have that infuriating condition."

"Condition?"

Adam ignored him and flipped through some notes. "Yes. Now, let's discuss your role in my plan, and then I need to run one more analysis before choosing the best time to stage our attack. I just need to plug your current condition into the equation."

"Conditions again. What condition? Buffy and Spike, what condition are you saying they have?" Riley shouted. Adam ignored him. Worry swelled more violently in his chest, remnants of love for Buffy forcing their way back through the hate and betrayal he felt. Had they chipped her, too? "Answer me! What condition does she have?" He asked desperately.

Adam didn't look up, but he answered. "Being in love." He said simply, and returned to his papers.

* * *

><p>"I love whatever you're doing." Buffy was indulging in one more intimate massage before they set out for patrol.<p>

"If you'd relax, you'd get a surprise. A wet one." Spike stroked her g-spot frenziedly.

"I'm relaxed!"

"Really?" Spike let his thumb shift from her clit to her tight, virgin opening and stroked it lightly. She jumped and sat halfway up. "I thought so."

Buffy glared. "One day." Her expression softened. "One day. I'll relax all the way. Maybe. I hope." She looked at him pleasingly. "Do you think I could ever relax like that? You're always saying I'm so prissy and bitchy, and I'm a- tight ass." She blushed.

Spike didn't answer for a minute, pulsing hard in her, making her let go with a wildcat yowl and clawing at his arm. "There's my lover." He kissed her quivering mound and rapidly came up to her. "You're not so bad."

"Ditto." She laughed weakly. "But- seriously. You know me better than I'd like to admit. And I know you, _William_." She reminded him pointedly.

"I know you do." He regarded her with a sigh. "You know what, Luv? I think with the right guy, you'd let go all the way."

"I don't think it's wrong anymore. I don't think it's bad." She clarified. "I just think it's-" She hesitated._ I think it's something I want to do when I'm in love and he loves me back, and I'll never feel used or like I crossed a boundary with someone who was judging me._ And if that didn't almost exactly describe the pale figure beside her...Well, she didn't think she'd ever find anything better. "I think it's something I want to try someday. Maybe another weekend, when we have the time, no big bad to hunt."

"But- you do mean with me?" Spike's eyebrows smacked into his hairline in surprise.

"Do you see any other person I'm- I care about in here?" She pushed his chest sharply.

"Oh." Spike looked taken aback.

"That's what you want, right?" Buffy pressed.

"I do, yeah. But you ought to feel it, too. You ought to be- properly in love... only I know that won't happen for either of us anymore."

"We're the best option. What we have left." Buffy whispered, reminding him. "But maybe- that's not all you want. 'Cause I know it's not the same as you and Dru." She murmured sadly, feeling that tightly bound single string straining, fraying.

Spike stared at the ceiling, listening to her heartbeat and the silence, the radio pouring out ballads in the late afternoon sun as it was obscured by heavy blinds.

"Funny thing about Dru an' me." He finally whispered. "When I was hurt- thanks to you and your organ throwin' skills-" Buffy snickered and he snarled once, "Dru took care of me. For about a month, 'til Angelus came round our way. She didn't care that I was in a wheelchair, all burned and scarred. She picked me up and carried me, like I'd done for her all those months when she was ill. Brought me lovely little snacks- teenagers-" Buffy glared and he skimmed over that bit, "Sorry, Pet. Anyway, took care of me. Not just the basics, but, not to get into it, Dru had a way of makin' a man with no feeling below the waist have _plenty_ of feeling below the waist." He smiled fondly at images in his mind, some of his goddess, some of the woman alongside him.

"She was healed. She was all better. Happier than I'd ever seen her, no Angelus, no Darla, a thick juicy Hellmouth to feed from. Everything was doin' her a treat." His grin broadened. "I was in pain, but the best cure in the world was watchin' her get well."

Buffy knew what he meant. That right then, there was no replacing Dru. There would never be a time when things got to that totally relaxed point. Where maybe he would love her. Not the way he'd ever loved Dru. Her mental brakes slammed on. _That's why you don't fall in love, idiot. Just because you've given up on Angel, doesn't mean he gave up on Drusilla. Maybe, in some sick way, Spike's a better person than me. But he said- last night, he said it was time to let go, move on. If he moves on, I think it'd be good if we moved on together. But what can a few weeks do against over a century of love?_

Just as Buffy's heart was softening into a puddle of sadness and regret for things they'd lost and things they couldn't ever have, couldn't get back, and couldn't get new- Spike's tone sharpened and thinned.

"Then he came back. An' took her from me." His sneer was frigid, and Buffy didn't know whether to embrace him or distance herself. He let out a bitter little sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if she was ever really mine, the way he took her from me so easily. The way she left so easily. Always leaves so easily."

"She was. She was yours, Spike." Buffy soothed.

Spike didn't seem to hear. "I want someone who stays, dammit."

"Me too. I want- I want someone like you. Not you, but like you." She made it plain, didn't want to have him brush her off.

And she got the surprise of her life. When he turned, he pinned her urgently to the mattress, eyes like coals, blazing into hers. "Why not me? You wanna go through the hassle of findin' someone else? It's so damn depressin'."

"But- but you don't want someone like me." Buffy feebly protested, heart thudding against her ribs, hope and fear choking her brain and her throat.

That heart was beating double quick, one beat for him, one for her. He smiled crookedly, voice controlled and casual with an effort. "I dunno. You seem like the faithful sort. Not the leavin' type. You'd do for me. If I'd do for you." He let it fall flatly to the air, let her pick up the statement, deny him, placate him- maybe even agree with him.

"It's- it's not supposed to be this way." _He can't really want me, choose me. But it's Spike. He wouldn't say things like that if he didn't mean them, he's the least tactful guy on the planet. If he says I'd do for him- he means it._ "I know it's not supposed to happen." She breathed, eyes suddenly reconnecting with his.

"No." He agreed. "Bloody hell, no, it's not." He was emphatic.

"But it is?" She whispered.

"Unless you've got some trick up your sleeve I don't know about, yeah, it is."

"Then I guess we'll do." She smiled wanly.

_What the hell do we do now? Say to that?_ Words failed, and body took over.

Buffy felt the breath smashed from her in his kisses, slamming against her desperately, holding tight. She didn't mind, she was holding just as needfully, bodies more eloquent than words. And they would move to the music, find that rhythm the poet and the fighter wanted, flesh to flesh and heat to cold, until the words would come.

The sound of the stereo and frantic coupling filled the room, sighs and grunts layered over dark strains.

_I'm not strong enough to stay away_

_Can't run from you_

_I just run back to you_

_Like a moth, I'm drawn into your flame_

_Say my name, but it's not the same_

_You look in my eyes, I'm stripped of my pride_

_And my soul surrenders and you bring my heart to its knees_

"Spike-"

"Shhh. Not yet." _You speak, and you'll try to look at it through those hard, good-girl eyes- and it'll all break away._ "Soon."

_And it's killin' me when you're away_

_I wanna leave and I wanna stay_

_I'm so confused, so hard to choose_

_Between the pleasure and the pain._

_And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right_

_Even if I try to win the fight_

_My heart would over-rule my mind._

_And I'm not strong enough to stay away_

"But I want you to know. Even if- we're not- what we ought to be, I don't mind too much." She panted against his cheek as he hammered inside her. "I'd just rather be with someone who I can feel something for. Something real for." She kissed the corner of his cool mouth. "Someone who won't leave, and who won't care if I'm not exactly what they want. As long as I don't leave, either."

_I'm not strong enough to stay away_

_What can I do_

_I would die without you_

_In your presence my heart knows no shame_

_I'm not to blame_

_'Cause you bring my heart to its knees_

"Baby, you know what that sounds like?" Spike warned her insistently.

_And it's killin' me when you're away_

_I wanna leave and I wanna stay_

_I'm so confused, so hard to choose_

_Between the pleasure and the pain._

_And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right_

_Even if i try to win the fight_

_My heart would over-rule my mind._

_And I'm not strong enough to stay away_

"I don't care what it sounds like. I'm so tired of caring about what I'm supposed to care about. I just want to care about you." Her words were urgent, fast, tumbling out with a sobbing quality about them.

_There's nothing I can do_

_My heart is chained to you_

_And I can't get free_

_Look what this love's done to me_

"You're adding string after string, Luv. You'll tie us up an' never get free."

"So? Who gets to be free? I'm a prisoner of my fate and so are you. If I have to live in a prison, I want to choose my cell mate." Angel's words taunted her. About his duty and hers, how they kept them from having a life they wanted. Well, no more. She might never be free of sacred callings and being "chosen"- but she didn't have to be a slave to it, either.

"I'd break you out. Handy with locks, I am." Spike smoothed her hair and nuzzled his forehead to hers.

"You might not be a good guy- but you're a good man to have in a fight. Or a jail break." They smiled at each other, eyes crinkling in grins- or to hide tears.

_And it's killin' me when you're away_

_And I wanna leave and I wanna stay_

_I'm so confused, so hard to choose_

_Between the pleasure and the pain._

_And I know it's wrong, and I know it's right_

_Even if I try to win the fight_

_My heart would over-rule my mind._

_And I'm not strong enough to stay away_

"Still not sure it's a good plan." Spike warned.

"But you're not stupid enough to try and decide that for me, are you?" Her tone was hard, eyes glinting in warning.

"No. If you're gonna go into the bloody awful mess- I wanna go too. Like a bit of chaos. Always have."

"Then don't leave."

"I can't. You can't either." He reminded her, thrusting in and holding it one more time.

"I already left. I came home. I can't stay away. Not from you."

_I'm not strong enough_

_Not strong enough_

_To stay away_

They kissed and climaxed as one, shuddering and clinging. Almost anticlimactic after all their passions of the day and the previous night. Then they lay, panting, weakened, looking at one another in disbelief.

"Why the hell do we keep coming back together? This was never what we planned." Spike whispered desperately.

"I don't know." She replied dishonestly. She knew exactly why.

"Don't you?" He challenged.

"No. I lied. You and I both know why we stick together, and you know why we're not supposed to feel this way, or say anything about it... even if we want to. Because it'll hurt."

"But if it's gonna hurt- an' I know it will- why can't I keep from loving you?"

The world froze and then fell apart like a hammer smashing a hole in a sheet of ice.

"Are you in love?" Buffy asked in tones of equal parts joy and horror. What a terrible thing. What a wonderful thing. What a terribly wonderful thing.

"I'm heading that way. Didn't mean to, don't want to..."

"Then don't say you are. I can't. I don't want to love anyone. Not even Angel, not anymore, it hurts so much. You know it does. I don't want you to hurt, I don't want to be the one who hurts you. But I want to tell you so bad it hurts." She bit his lower lip in a sudden clinch, all talked out, gasping at the finish as though she'd been running, not just speaking. The body was in good shape, but the heart was exhausted.

"Shhh. Shh, we don't have to say it 'til it's safe." Spike soothed her.

"It'll never be safe."

"Then what's your plan, Slayer? As long as we don't say it, we're happy? We know but we pretend we don't? You don't wanna lie to yourself, an' you know it."

"I know that. But saying it just because I want to say it, opening up so many wounds or potential wounds- it's just selfish."

"But it's not selfish if we don't, 'cause we're tryin' to protect ourselves, each other? Is that it?" Spike tried to see through her eyes.

"Sometimes protecting the person you love is selfish." Buffy thought of Angel leaving for "her own good" And it had been anything but.

"I'm a selfish bastard, Luv."

"No. You're unselfish. You give everything, _everything_ when you love someone. I saw you do it before. I can see you doing it again." Images of Spike hurling himself between her and a loaded gun wavered in front of hazy eyes. "That's why- I could love you."

"My Heart." He reminded her. "Do you want me to pretend? 'Cause I'm selfish- but I'm real good at livin' in the dark. Done it for a long time now."

"No. No pretending. Just don't tell anyone. But me." She wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You know it's gonna go badly, don't you?" Spike wrapped his own arms more tightly around her back.

"It already hurts. What's more? Maybe it'll get better. Everything bad lately- you made better. And this is something good." She whispered.

His brain lost the battle. "I love you, Buffy. Don't want to. Don't mean to. Jus' do."

"That's okay. I don't want to either. But I do. Y'know. Love you." She smiled mistily at him.

Spike's heart restarted- at least it felt that way. "How can you?"

"Just do. How can you love me? I'm not like Dru."

"So? Hundred odd years and what'd it get me? Shattered. Alone. Hurt enough to look at you." He smiled softly. "I'm not sayin' it's the same. It doesn't have to be. An' you're one to compare! I'm not like Angel." He growled.

"I don't want a replacement. I want something new." She affirmed.

"So do I. Maybe- maybe somethin' like you. Sunshine instead of dark."

"Passion instead of restraint, pushing me away. Someone who likes me strong, doesn't need me to be weak."

" There's no restraint in me, Luv. I go after what I want, screw everything but what matters, and that's love. An' love's better if both people in the game are packin' a punch."

"I never leave. I wouldn't ever leave. I just kill the guy." Buffy laughed suddenly, tearily.

"Oh, baby. That's a good plan." Spike stroked her cheek, wiping a single tattletale tear away. "Turns me on, too." He joked with her. "And I'd rather be dust than sittin' empty inside. "

There was a pause as swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm not good at this. Being in love." Buffy rolled her eyes. "At least- that's what the survey says."

Spike scoffed. "Says who? Poofy and the little Tin Soldier? They don't know what love is."

"But you do?" She challenged softly.

"Love is when you know it's all buggered up an' you don't care. 'Cause you love her." He whispered. "That never changes. I've always been a mess, been love's bitch. Think I'm good at it now."

"You really are. You're wonderful at it. For someone evil- you know how to love."

"Bloody right I do. Love like nothing else matters."

"But other stuff_ does_ matter. My friends. My mom. Saving people." Buffy bit her lip. "You don't have that."

"I don't _need_ that. I have you. I have somethin' to fight. Gimme that an' some blood, an' I'm good to go. I'm easy."

"That's why I liked being with you." Buffy smiled. "It could've been mega complicated- but it wasn't. It was simple."

"Then you'll still like bein' with me. I didn't change. Much. Just started to love you." He concluded hoarsely.

"So you're still a jerk?" She hinted.

"You're still a bitchy little airhead- sometimes." He taunted.

"I'm not saying I want some big thing. Like- dating. Just because-you know. How I feel." Buffy murmured.

Spike nodded silently. "I understand."

"No. Not because it's wrong or bad, or I'm too worried about what people will say- although I imagine they'll say plenty." Buffy smoothed his hair once more. "But because I really don't care. I already let people screw things up for me. I already tried to do what people wanted. Tried to be normal, tried to move on, be happy, be whatever. It screws things up. I can't change a lot of things in my life. I can at least love who I want. On my terms. On _our_ terms." She corrected blushingly.

"Sure it's 'cause you're not afraid of revealin' some big, bad secret?" Spike prodded.

She hesitated. "Maybe. A little. Dealing with other people's opinions sucks right now." She looked into his sapphire eyes. "So I don't plan on telling anyone anything for a long time, if ever. Except you. I'll tell you." She sucked in a shaking breath. "For some reason- I love you, Spike. William."

Spike's own expelled air shook as it came out in a rush. "I love you, Slayer. Buffy. An' I don't think it's anyone else's business. No one hears a word. Not from me."

Buffy pouted up at him, inflaming him, making him weak all over, that innocent, yet sexy expression worming its way into the internal corners he tried to keep dark and silent. "What now, Kitten?" He asked, falling under her pink, puffy assault.

"I want to hear a word. Three actually. No- six."

"Six?" Spike puzzled. "Well, the first three I can get."

"You can get them both." She added widened eyes to the attack.

"I love you." He hesitated- then with a flash of intuition he added, "I love you. Never gonna leave."

Buffy's smile lit the room. "I love you. I came home." She traced his rapidly widening smile. "Six for you, too."

Oooh, she was good. Damn good. He loved that. No, he loved _her._ Suddenly, it seemed like a stupid thing not to have told her, and not to tell her again. Oh, well. They'd be sticking around, neither one leaving. He had lots of time to correct the situation.

Buffy watched the mischief coming back into his eyes and felt it sparking a response in her own. "Uh-oh. What now?"

"Don't think I heard you properly. Tell me again?" He rolled his tongue behind his teeth in the cocky grin that made her crazy- in a good or bad way, depending on the situation.

Buffy spun them, putting him on his back, sitting now, straddling his stomach, hands on his shoulders, glaring playfully down on him. "Oh, I'll tell you." She managed to sound teasingly intimidating.

Spike hands crept slowly up her arms, his face losing its bad boy look as they did. The face was softening, yearning, hope coming back into eyes that had been so pained for so long. It softened her expression as well,and she was falling, forward, down to kiss that half open mouth as it wavered into a gentle smile. "Go ahead then." He whispered. "Tell me, Luv."

She eased herself down, slipping another notch between each murmured reassurance. "I will. Again. And again. And again..."

_To be continued..._


	17. Chapter 17

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Dedicated to ginar369- who reviews like nobody's buisiness!, Cavementftw, elizadarcy183, RedEclipedTwilight, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Sundance22, Lalabuff, Sweet- T3, Trashyfiction, micmoc, DLillith21,Little Missy123, twotoe, MMWillow, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and sbyamibakura. I do so love all of you, my devoted readers and reviewers. All my work goes out to you._

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XVII

"This town is absolutely dead." Buffy huffed and twirled her stake with a pout.

"Hardee har har, Slayer." Spike puffed restlessly on his cigarette but he was inclined to agree. "Maybe he's marshallin' up his troops. Maybe the soldier boys bagged a lot last night after we left. We certainly took out a few ourselves."

The duo had been out for an hour or so, been to all the local haunts, and seen no one of interest, no one connected to Adam or likely to be connected to Adam. No place in town seemed promising, so they were going to have to travel back up into the cave areas in the hills above the campus.

"We better head up into the woods then." Buffy looked in the direction of the college.

"Guess so." Spike sighed. "Prolly shoulda looked there first."

"If I had a secret hideout that wasn't a secret, I wouldn't be hiding in it anymore." Buffy marched forward.

"Well, he's not exactly inconspicuous. An' not like he has places to crash at, can't go hang in someone's basement. He's gotta have space for all his equipment- whatever I didn't smash." Buffy leaned briefly against him and gave him an amused smile, looking up at him. Spike felt warmth flooding through him, but he didn't get soppy. Not out here, in the open. If she'd have him for the night, it'd be a different matter. He became brisk, eager for the first time in a long time, to skip the violence and get to the bedding down. "We checked the docks and the warehouse district. If he's not in the caves, I can check the tunnels and you take the abandoned buildings round town."

"Who's the Slayer here?" Buffy pouted, elbowing him. "I'll do the planning."

"I want to live to see my next death-day, Luv. Not trustin' your plannin' overmuch."

"Have _any_ of your plans _ever_ worked when I'm involved?" Buffy asked, hands on hips.

"Yes!" Spike jutted his jaw defiantly. "Jus' not all the way. But I improvise!" Buffy let out a derisive snort, and he scowled into her face. "Look, the plan I jus' mentioned isn't exactly rocket science. It's actually good, simple, search stuff, dead basic. You got somethin' better?"

Buffy was forced to admit it was. She nodded, a wicked smile slowly creeping across her face. "Did you just try to be polite and diplomatic with me?"

Spike reared like he'd been stung. "Shut your mouth! You can do your hide an' seek on your own." He stormed off and deliberately didn't look back.

"Hey! Drama Vamp!" Buffy easily caught up to him and snagged his arm, fighting to keep a grip even though he tried to shake her. "I was just joking around."

"Well- don't. Not about that. I'm still the Big Bad- on a store bought diet." Spike grimaced. He lowered his voice and hissed. "Look, just because we- y'know, we said all that stuff earlier, doesn't mean I'm gonna roll over an' be all noble an' committed to the good fight. I'm _not_ a good guy."

"Spike. Shut up." Buffy whispered. Spike's mouth popped open out of sheer contrariness. "I thought it was really sweet. In an evil way." She tacked on to appease him, watching his mouth twitch and suppress a smile. "Oh- and you know what was really sexy?" Her voice was a dark breath against his chin as she looked up at him.

Spike's eyes widened and then the cocky look overtook him. "What?"

"You were just going to storm off and let me go face Adam all by myself."

"Well- wait. My acting like a bratty twelve year old turns you on?"

"No! Acting like I can take him on alone- that you don't think you need to 'keep an eye on me' makes me feel pretty happy with you."

Spike shrugged and looked nonchalantly up at the spring sky. "Don't need a nursemaid." Then, looking right into her eyes, "I've got a thing for powerful women." His lips grazed her cheek and he added, "Powerful. Not perfect. Not unbreakable, or unshakeable. Just powerful. Like you."

"No. Not _like_ me. _Me_." She felt newfound confidence flooding her. "And I like my guy strong without the selfless savior, 'God, let me be miserable, I deserve it' package."

"Prefer 'em to have lips that actually smile, Luv?" Spike kissed her between sentences.

"I prefer you. For all kinds of reasons." She sighed. "I'm doomed."

"I know. So am I. After we find the bastard, care to go be doomed at my place?"

"The house is still empty." Buffy pulled away and walked purposefully in the direction of the campus once again. Spike chuckled in the darkness behind her and followed.

"I need some blood. A lot of it, actually. The way you take it outta me." His tone dripped sex, and he inhaled, smelled just that, dripping sex, wet heat coming off of her.

"Find evil monster, report to Giles, get blood, go home?"

_Go home. She came home to me, now I go home with her. God, I'm so happy, it's gonna make me sick soon. But for now..._ Spike's grin lit the night. "There's still some lotion left."

"And when I was in the fridge- I saw a whole bottle of chocolate sauce." Buffy sashayed off, wiggling seductively on purpose.

Spike's cock sprang to painful attention and he groaned. Buffy walked even faster, eluding him in his now constricted walk. "Hey... was there whip cream?"

"I didn't look. We'll have to see what else we can find." She winked, and ran. Spike's laugh chased her in the dark streets, and he ran as well.

* * *

><p>"I've found everything we need for a strengthening spell." Giles told Willow over the phone. "I've called the magic store, and the owner has everything set aside for me. Now- the enjoining spell-"<p>

"Don't order casting cards. Tara has some."

"You need special ones."

"She has them."

"It would be very surprising if she had these particular ones." Giles pointed out doubtfully.

"Well, that's Tara, surprising." Willow smiled at her girlfriend, who blushed and look self-consciously at the book she was holding. "Here, talk to her, Giles." She passed the receiver to Tara.

"Hi Mr. Giles." Tara's voice hesitantly murmured.

"Just Giles, please, Tara. Now, the cards that you need-"

"They were my grandmother's. Cards that respect the old powers. Not tarot, not runic. There's um- elemental cards, cards for old powers, and the auric markers."

Giles felt his respect growing exponentially for the young woman. "Fascinating! Well, that saves me overnighting some from E-bay. I never know if I'll end up with the genuine article anyway."

"I h-hope these are okay for the j-job." Tara's stammer broke through. If they weren't okay- everything would be ruined- and her friends, her Willow, all of them might be gone.

"They're the best option we have." Giles sighed. "Alright, we'll come together here, then. I've no idea what time Buffy and Spike will arrive, but we could probably use the time to confer and prepare. Did you find out anything useful in regards to the enjoining? Or aural transference?"

"Not too much we didn't already know." Anya was on the phone now, taking it unceremoniously from Tara's soft grip. "You _are_ going to need someone to stay on the outside of the circle though. In case you all end up getting fused or coma-tized."

"And by your phrasing, I see you've elected yourself to that job?" Giles pulled off his glasses wearily.

"I think I'm a good candidate." Anya replied. "For a bunch of reasons!" She cut off Giles before he could raise an objection. "I'm a former demon. You already have two old powers in the mix, and even though I'm one hundred percent human now, I bet my aura is still kind of tingly. It's used to being super aura, right?"

Giles paused. "Possibly."

"Also, I have some magical knowledge, and if you do get turned into some huge, amorphous critter, I might be able to separate you- eventually. Maybe."

"Well, that's why we're researching, Anya- so we don't become an 'amorphous critter', as you call it." Giles rubbed the bridge of his nose and squinted in his exhaustion.

"And lastly- I'm scared and I don't want to go fight Adam again. I got slammed into the ground by a giant elemental force the other night, and I thought Spike's car was going to kill me. I don't do friendly fire and enemy fire at the same time." She crossed her arms firmly, then looked over at Xander, reading his expression, a mixture of disbelief and regretful acceptance. "Unless you need me to go. To help. 'Cause I- I wanna help. Even if my stupid mortal body might get pulverized." Anya offered in a contrite sounding voice. "If it would help..." Xander beamed at her.

"I think, now that I consider it, that we do need someone on the outside. If something should go wrong- you'll have to get Angel back up here." Giles informed her gravely.

"But can we not mention that part of the contingency to Buffy?" Xander stole the phone to make his plea.

"I shall be very relieved when you all arrive and stop randomly switching my conversation partners." Giles fussed, surly from lack of sleep and severe pain in his ankle. "Everyone head over. All we have to do is wait for Buffy and Spike to finish their search and we can begin in earnest."

* * *

><p>"They'll search this area soon. I'm surprised they haven't done it already." Adam dragged Riley along behind him down a long, unused shaft that went into the rock.<p>

"Not so infallible, are you?" Riley spat.

"Well, I'd assumed their mating would take less time than this. The urgency of finding a foe- me- should outweigh the physical bonding ritual humans so often retreat to after stress. Of course, I calculated in the average vampire sexual recovery time using a formula based on physical healing time, and an unknown variable was the effects of a warm, living partner on a vampire's sexual stamina. It seems most vampires don't manage to mate and eat using humans for both activities, at least none I've found. No data." Adam shook his head sadly. " I didn't have any data on slayers to correlate into my equation, either. Her recovery time aside, I have next to nothing to go on. You could help me with that information, Brother."

Riley pitched his whole body forward, as it seemed to be the only thing he could attack with- and smashed his skull into Adam's leathery back. "Don't talk about her like that! Ever again!"

Adam seemed mildly curious as he picked Riley up an dangled him loosely by the shoulder. "You still desire to defend her 'honor', is that the motivation for your stupid attempt to injure me?"

"I don't know- about honor." Riley grunted as he twisted, unable to break free. "I know what you are. I know that if you open your mouth again about trying to 'calculate' some kind of timeframe based on what an innocent girl does when she's-" Riley stopped and struggled for words. Adam said Buffy was in love. He didn't believe it. He didn't believe a girl like her could really be in love, not the right way, not the good way, the way decent people loved, when love is pure and driven by caring. She wouldn't have done what she did- not if she loved him. And if she didn't love him, how could she ever love the polar opposite of him? Soulless, demonic, monstrous, a murderer, a killer. How could she have chosen- never mind. It didn't matter, not anymore. Being in love wasn't the right term, but the term was one easily understood. "You don't know anything about her, about what she would do- if she were with someone she loved. Science and numbers, that's all you know. You don't add and subtract love." He growled. Adam dropped him and he felt his leg creak warningly.

"Hm. More reason for it to be programmed away. Now. Walk." Adam turned down another shaft, and Riley had to follow him, helplessly controlled by something. Something small, but he could feel it now, feel its faint pulse, out of time with his, as he resisted it. Adam must have noticed too, turning back to check on the slow, unwilling progress of his captive. "Even with it fully activated, free will causes interference. Don't worry. We have your medication in the lab, and Mother is an excellent nurse."

"I'm not going to take any meds!" Riley growled. "And stop calling her mother, stop calling me brother! If you don't want love, why the hell would you want a family!"

Adam stopped dead, nonplussed. Only for a second, before his hand shot out and grabbed Riley roughly by the throat and flung him into an opening in the wall, an elevator, concealed in the rock, just like the elevators of Lowell House were concealed in the walls. Riley felt sick. This lair had been machined by the Initiative. Their own guns were taking them out again...

Adam frowned as he slowly stepped inside after him. "I don't think affection has anything to do with what I call you. I was programmed to know you by those names. I simply use terms of biological creation. That is all." Adam entered an access code and the door rasped shut and slowly slid down on rusty sounding cables, barely used, and only used recently, sitting idly for months and months until Adam came to be.

"So you were programmed to call her that, huh? That just proves it. She made you wrong! She wanted you to love her- didn't she?" Riley laughed weakly. Adam ignored him and said nothing until the lift doors juddered open.

The slow shuffling cadaverous form of Walsh appeared before him, and Adam beside him, hauling him up. " You can ask her yourself." Adam thrust him forward.

"I'll ask you, thanks." Riley shied away from Walsh as best he could. "Since you're still alive- if that's what you call this." Riley found his feet shuffling reluctantly down a small, dark corridor, towards a much brighter door. "You're part human, part demon- you have a brain... you know what love is. You-"

Adam punched him hard. "I don't have a brain. I have an operating system. Uranium core." He roughly hauled Riley into the room at the end of the tunnel. "Hearts, brains, emotional states- meaningless. This is what truly matters." Adam gestured through the open door.

"Not- so- much." Riley laughed weakly, blood dripping from his mouth.

"I brought you here to assist me as an underling, but a sentient form." Adam glowered as he pushed Riley into a steel chair in a stainless, sterile environment, airlocked apparently, hidden in plain sight in the labyrinth of the Initiative.

"So you admit being sentient- having a brain capable of thought-makes me worth something, huh?" Riley felt the pulse of the chip ticking wildly out of sync now, the more he struggled, the more he felt something, like tiny zaps inside his chest, making his breathing more and more labored. He wondered what the actual trigger would be, if it would be violent action against Adam, if it was simply freedom of movement, full freedom- and he wondered what the consequence was. Was it like the chips inside the demons? Was he about to be reduced to Spike's level, unable to hurt demons instead of humans, would they be opposite sides of the same demented coin? The thought panicked him, that he might be becoming like that pitiful pasty creature. He felt like his heart might burst, but he forced the words out. "Answer me! Admit it- you feel, you think- you want more like yourself because you're alone. Maybe you're even lonely. You want me. You want her." He jerked his head to Walsh.

Adam's face cracked in rage- then it was like a wall came down over his features. "I want more of my kind to purge the failures of the individual races in a glorious blending. I think. I cogitate. I didn't say I let it rule me, these thoughts driven by emotions. That is the difference. Your thoughts are an output of your emotional weakness. My thoughts are lines of brilliant, untrammeled code and programming sequence."

"Then why do you want more like you?" Riley resisted Walsh's clammy, crepe hands as they attempted to secure his arms. With a hollow groaning sound, she pulled a taser from her lab coat pocket and zapped him briefly. While he was wincing in pain, the corpse managed to shove one wrist into place.

"Don't damage him. Much."Adam chided absently, and turned to a steel refrigerated cabinet.

"Why do you want to blend or purge or whatever- if you don't at least care?" Finn demanded once he could talk again. He had to keep him talking. Look for an out. Test the limits of this chip... find a chink in the indestructible armor...

Adam paused. "Scientific duty - _Brother_." He smiled, and Riley really wished he hadn't. It wasn't a normal smile, it was like a marionette's, a smile pulled by strings, worn by a being who really had nothing to smile for, felt nothing inside. "Or perhaps- perhaps Mother did make me with some sense of familial loyalty- though it's programmed in, I assure you, not 'felt'. Because I choose to keep you both close to me, I seek your help. But rest assured," Adam's hand suddenly slammed down on Riley's forearm, raising a vein through sheer compression, "I am not flawed. Even if I were, the next generation will be better, created by me." His hand reached back and gestured impatiently to the slow moving Walsh. "How you help me rule this race is up to you- as a glorious fighter, harvesting for the grand future spreading before us- or like Mother. Dead. But still useful to me. I can program you to sew." He smiled unpleasantly as he ran a hand over the seam of his green and beige skin where human met demon. "It's your call. A man in the heat of battle, dominant in a new world. Or dead but forced to act alive. Like one of those vampires you hate so much." He played on Riley's fear and hatred. He might not have "emotions", but he surely was fluent in using them to control the situation. It was actually the easiest weakness to exploit. And exploiting weakness- there was nothing more scientific. Pure Darwinism, beautifully simple. "Make a choice, Riley." Adam looked at Walsh, slowly filling the syringe with the powerful steroid mixture Finn had become dependent on, the elixir that fueled his rage and erased his capacity for clear thought. "Fight with me. Join. Be man. Or be monster." He suddenly laughed callously. "Or you could defy me, die, and I'll make you a little of both."

* * *

><p>"We've been down both tunnels. He isn't here." Buffy hissed.<p>

"He is, an' he's- he's got somethin' with him." Spike wrinkled his nose. "Almost smells like a corpse. But- not. never smelled anything like it before." Spike shivered. "Goody. We don't stop this ass an' we're in for a whole world of not quite dead, not quite people to deal with."

"I thought you'd like that. Sounds like you." Buffy teased darkly and stepped further into the cave's recesses. "Hey. This isn't a cave."

"God. You've gone all stupid again." Spike began searching for a smoke, eager to get the odd new scent out of his nose.

"No! I mean- look- this part's not stone. It's smooth. It's- shit!" Buffy yelped and fell forward.

"Well, if it's shit, I'm not touchin' it." Spike muttered and rolled his eyes, walking towards her.

"It's a panel!" Buffy hissed and motioned him over.

"It looks like a lift door." Spike realized. "There's another shaft in here! To the labs, maybe, or other parts of this bloody big rock."

"That makes sense." Buffy murmured, running her hand over it, feeling for a seam.

"Nothin' in this burg makes sense." Spike disagreed, moving further into the shadows, still sniffing, searching for something, something familiar but faint, as well as the odd new combination of death and human he smelled.

"No, Spike, it makes sense because Adam's lair is connected to the Initiative- probably." Buffy said excitedly.

"Well- no- that makes no sense, Pet 'cause wouldn't you want to get far away from the big bunch o' greenies tryin' to kill you?" Spike reached a dead end and returned to her side.

"But if they don't know about this shaft- Adam could be right on top of them, more than he already was. And where are all of his faithful kamikaze pals at?"

"Oh. _Oh_." Spike grinned. "Not to mention- lots of strong boys an' all those nice little labcoats with their big craniums dashin' about, cheek to cheek with the demons in that godawful zoo."

"It's like Adam's superstore." Buffy's eyes widened in realization. "Oh, God. Spike- he's got lab equipment, computer parts, humans, and demons... He's got everything he needs to go into production. Whenever he says so." Her voice was soft and horrified. _We knew he had the gun- we just didn't realize how soon he could pull the trigger..._

"Dammit." Spike let out a suddenly vicious kick against the door and it reverberated with a sound of echoing metal.

"No, _that_ would be a 'dammit!" Buffy hissed and bit her lip nervously, balling her fists, ready for action.

"No, dammit 'cause I was in here before! I didn't even notice the soddin' door! I didn't think he'd be so ballsy to do it right under- or rather- over, their noses."

"We need to get out of here." Buffy tugged his arm suddenly.

"What? Bugger that! So he's got a nice little trapdoor. Maybe it goes into the caves, maybe it goes into the bloody labs- maybe it goes into the effin' sewer works. You gotta check these things out. I don't fancy gettin' my aural presence or whatever tossed about an' joined up with your lot only to go and attack the greater Sunnyhell water treatment plant instead of Patchwork Face."

Buffy looked at him appraisingly. "Giles was right. You are capable of linear planning."

"I think we're gonna get killed if we have to do so much mojo twice in a row, maybe jus' hours apart. Let's get this done in one shot." Spike slammed his boot into the door again. "Just wanna see where it goes- then we run."

"Well, you're not getting the job done like that." Buffy's nostrils wrinkled as she inhaled a lungful of acrid air, leftovers from Spike's little distraction rampage earlier in the week. "Come on. Together. We get the door open, we look around- and we go." She lined herself up next to him and raised her leg, drawing back for a kick. "Can you please wait to be 'counted in' this time?" She glared.

" 'Course. There's only one thing that comes close to explodin' together, screamin' together." Spike purred. "That's gotta be destroyin' stuff with you."

"We can go practice that 'joining' up stuff later." Buffy momentarily lost her killer instinct so she could flutter her lashes seductively. "In a non-magic-y way."

"Oh, it's damn magical." Spike leaned closer to her. Powerful. Wet. Hot. Alive. His second chance. His best option, his 'whatever's left'. "Bloody hell, Slayer..."

"Love that about me?" She whispered.

"Love that about _us_." His lips curled into a feral, seductive smile. "On three?"

"Three." Buffy grinned back, and their feet crashed down, making the door shudder.

* * *

><p>A giant shuddering sound distracted Adam, who for once, moved as if surprised. He turned in the direction of the noise. "Company. Ready to meet them, Brother?"<p>

"Yeah... but I'm not playing by your rules." Riley grit his teeth. Another crash made Adam put down the syringe.

"Fine. Be a monster. Like your mother. Maybe it should run in families after all." Adam moved a few steps away. "That shaft requires a command sequence..."

"You know what? If you think being a human who helps slaughter other humans to save himself isn't a monster- you got serious issues." Riley wriggled from where he was strapped down. Here was the opening- the back was turned, the syringe was far enough from his arm not to get immediately jabbed with it...

"Tell yourself what you like." Adam listened intently, looking upwards. "I thought they'd find us up there- but this- they shouldn't be able to open it. It resists my strength, it should resist theirs..."

"Funny thing about Buffy and Hostile 17- they have a real bad habit of not doing what you'd think they'll do.

"Yes... another design flaw that needs correcting." Adam sighed. He eyed Walsh. "Inject him. The full vial. I have to go see what those two are doing." He exited the room without even a backwards glance at Riley. "Those two. If they weren't so vital, I'd kill them. They're both very unpredictable." He shut the door.

"They're not the only ones!" Riley lunged against his restraints as soon at Adam was out of sight and the slow moving Walsh turned towards him, needle in one hand. Hooking his fingers under the tubes that protruded from Walsh's chest, he pulled with all his strength, and felt fluid coating his hand. Walsh fell with a rush of air like a ventilator being turned off. Riley yanked Walsh across his seated form as she toppled.

"Sorry about this!" Riley hissed as he grabbed the taser that was in Walsh's lab coat pocket.

Riley shoved the taser hard against his own chest and winced. Volts coursed through him and he felt the world slipping away- but the chip slipped away with it. He might die- but he wasn't dying as someone else's puppet. He dropped the taser just as he felt himself blacking out. Listening to his hammering heart- he heard just that. Hammering of a heartbeat- but _only_ a heartbeat. The chip was dead- at least for the moment. "Something sharp, gotta move fast..."

Riley stumbled up after shoving Walsh to the ground and loosening his one secured wrist. Medical supplies. Chemicals. Instruments. Scalpel. No time to worry, just gotta get it out. At least if he died from blood loss, he couldn't be a puppet. Not like this anyway, trapped inside his unwilling body, watching it obey orders from a madman. And he wouldn't become the madman himself, fed drugs, fed lies...

With a brutal stab, he sliced into his upper chest, the muscular area over the heart, making a gagging cry of pain as he did so. This is where he'd felt the pulsing come from. This was where they'd put it was where'd he'd take it out or die trying. Then he'd get out. He didn't know how. He didn't have a lot of time, but he wasn't leaving chipped, with a chance to be recalled any moment.

Riley gasped out painfully as he explored the slit he'd just made in his chest with the scalpel's edge. For once in his life, he was glad Spike and Buffy were together. The two of them together might buy him enough time...

* * *

><p>"Time to go, time to go, right now, Slayer!" Spike's senses came back on line more fully once the shaft door was open and the familiar smell became recognizable.<p>

"But- it's dark down there, you can't possibly tell that-"

"Your boy is here."

"My - As in Riley?" Buffy's eyebrows smacked her hairline.

"As in him an' Adam. They're here. Together." Spike tugged her back frantically.

"They'd never! Riley hates him, Riley-"

"Got shoved into a pit with him last night. Made it out okay, from what I heard. But who knows? Maybe they bonded down there."

"Stoppit." Buffy spat it out as one angry little word.

"I'm not tryin' to be cruel. I know you-" Spike forced her to retreat a few steps. "I know you picked me, saved me. I know maybe you regret that right about now, but-"

Buffy's mouth crushed his briefly. "I picked the right one." She whispered. "Not the good one. Not the bad one. The _right_ one. So save that speech."

"Then you listen to me, as I'm the right one- we _need_ to leave. Captain Cardboard's talkin' crazy, an' Adam's the popular candidate for Crazy of the Year. They might hate each other to hell an' back. Seem to recall we did that, too. An' we ended up workin' together, for one very noble purpose."

"Saving the world." Buffy whispered solemnly.

"No! Savin' the girl! Drusilla." Spike hauled her back as soft clanking sounds began to echo from below.

"Huh?"

"Maybe Riley made a deal. Adam gets the run of the place- if Finn gets _you_."

"Riley would never sell out like that! He might be crazy, but he hates demons and he fights evil." She shook his hand off furiously, heart contracting painfully. _He thinks I'm being turned. He thinks all kinds of things. He's losing his grip. But he'd never- no, he'd never switch sides._

"I hated Slayers and I fought good with everythin' I had. Turned right 'round for the girl I loved. Do it again. Doin' it right now." Spike's eyes blazed in the dark. "Some things are worth sellin' your soul for. Or sellin' out for." He lightly brushed her cheek.

Buffy swallowed. "You might not be right about him. But you're right about the other stuff." She leaned her face into his touch.

"Dunno what's wrong. Could be a hostage deal, could be a sellin' out type of deal, but we know where Adam is, an' we know it's leadin' to somethin' aside from sewers." Spike paused.

"I hear him." Buffy breathed.

"Bloody hell- it's a proper lift. That's the cable comin' up." Spike realized what the sound was.

"What about Riley?" Buffy clenched her hands. "I can't leave him- again. Unless he's flipped and he's trying to kill me now. Or something worse. I hate this!" Her clenched hands turned in wringing ones, as she stood frozen between the path out of the cave and the rapidly rising elevator car.

"I know- but you can try an' take him now- and you know we can't do more than keep him at bay. Or we can marshall the troops and take him out once and for all tomorrow."

"What would you do?" Buffy challenged.

"If _you_ were in there- I'd go get myself killed." Spike confessed. "As it is, knowin' it could be a trap-"

The lift reached the aperture in the cave wall, black cables spooling slowly as the top of the car peeped into view.

"Crap!" Buffy squeaked and made a split second decision- at the same time as Spike. She retreated, and he ran forward. "Spike!" she shouted in exasperation.

"Dammit! Can't you ever do what you're s'posed to do? What I think you're gonna do?" Spike cursed vehemently and picked up one of the charred looking tables and slammed it across the doorway.

"No! If I did- we wouldn't be together!" Buffy joined him and whipped a knife from her jacket. "So glad I know how to accessorize." She mumbled sarcastically. "Get down!"

"What are you going to- oh hell!" Spike ducked at the thick bladed knife whizzed through the air. It struck one of the cables in the middle and the car tilted lopsidedly, still moving, now rocking dangerously as it did so.

"Nice shot, Luv!" Spike praised.

"Nice barricade work." She complimented him with a modest shrug.

"It won't hold him."

"And the knife won't stop the elevator. Just slow it down."

"We've bought some time. We know where he is, we get your Scooby set, an' we're back in a few hours!"

"I know. I know. God..." Buffy allowed herself to be led away, reluctantly looking back over at the shaft. "What if he's hurt?"

Spike boy'd treated her like shit the one and only time the girl had probably ever been truly vulnerable. Called her a liar. All but called her a slut- and nothing was farther from the truth. The girl was heart whole, broken and bloody inside, and giving one hundred and ten percent of herself- everything to make up for not being able to ever love him back- to the stupid, blind git who seriously believed she was fine. There wasn't more hurt than that- when you gave everything and he can't even tell if it's you he's inside, you he's makin' love to, telling you he loves you... Spike seethed. "What if he is? He deserves it."

Buffy punched him. Riley was wrong- but he was still a person, still worth helping.

He kissed her. The boy hurt her heart- but he didn't fight her battles for her. And this one fairly swam in guilt, from everyone but him. No need to toss his bitterness in, make her feel another pang.

"Sorry." They both said as one, one for verbal injury, one for physical.

_How can we be facing death or a seriously bad battle- and still make each other get all hot and sticky? Buffy pulled away with a heavy gasp, licking her lip, tasting him on it._

_How the hell is that possible? The big nasty is comin' up, inch by inch, and I'd still probably shag her right here if I thought we wouldn't get cut to bits on all the broken glass and sharp edges in this ex-lab._"Slayer..." He kept her pushed away, fingers kneading her arms, resisting the urge to pull her in.

"We so need to get out of here." Buffy moaned, and they ran.

* * *

><p>Finding a way out was made difficult by blood loss, numerous injuries, almost total darkness, and the knowledge that if you failed- you'd die. On the other hand, all those factors added an adrenaline rush of untold force. "Walled in. But there's air. Underground. Came down... how many seconds did it take?" Finn kept a constant mumbling to keep himself focused and conscious. He staggered and stumbled, but didn't know where he was going, not exactly. Eventually he heard a thumping, like something pounding on the walls, something rocking back and forth. He moved away from that sound.<p>

But now there were other sounds. Voices? Human? Yes, human voices- Riley pressed his ear to the wall.

"Pulling to your left- and roll. Roll! And again. Okay, Johnson and Davis next."

"Yes, sir!"

"Training rooms. We're right next to the 314 lab. She built the lab over the lab... If I'm over the lab..." Riley listened intently. Further down, the steady thumping grew louder, but still steady, and no closer. Adam must be trapped in something, or locked out, pounding on something. He made a split second decision.

Riley ran, limping, holding his weeping chest with every step, determined he wasn't going to die until he gave someone the message. _Adam's going to flood the place with demons. All out warfare, all out carnage, down here. Head on assault, because he doesn't' care if every single person dies... Gotta stop him._

Panting, he crashed back into the lab, and tripped over Walsh's remains. "Sorry again." Riley yanked the steel refrigeration compartment from the wall, barely making it out of the way before it crashed down. "Thank God." He smiled at the ceiling- or rather the floor. Under his feet was the "roof" of the base.

Riley moved urgently, if weakly. Electrical panels. And every panel has a source. And every source built above 314... Riley pulled over the next cabinet, and the next, tiring with every step, until at last- the glow of florescent lights hit him.

"Ceiling panel." He grabbed the nearest large object- a rolling cart- and sent it cascading through the floor- which was also the ceiling of the secret 314 lab. With a shower of sparks and a hiss of lighting element flaring before the glass exploded, the ceiling panel burst and Finn followed it down.

Riley landed on his back, looking up at the gaping hole in the ceiling, blinking. The lab was deserted. No one came in here. No one had even known about it until Adam awoke. This was Walsh's place of death. Oddly fitting that her body was still there- just one floor up.

Finn dragged himself up, and to the door. He weakly clambered through it, made it to the doorway of the training room directly beside it, saluted, and collapsed.

"Holy crud, it's Finn!"

"He's on the DL!"

"He's up again?"

"Oh, my God- look at his chest! MEDIC!"

"MEDIC!" The cry rang out, boots went running, and Riley smiled.

"Good to be home." He whispered.

Forrest's face appeared before his swimming eyes in a matter of seconds. "Riley! You're gonna get your butt kicked out on a dishonorable!"

"The lab. There's 'nother one above. 314."

"What?"

"Adam. Upstairs."

"He's losing it. We're underground, and the only thing above us is caves and Lowell House." Gates took his hand and pulled his shirt off, staunching the blood flowing from his chest. "You hang on, you've had worse, man. Hang on, and that's an order!"

"I outrank you." Riley smiled faintly.

"Not right now. Right now I'm livin' and you're dyin' so I win." Gates moved out of the way so the medics could get to the bleeding man.

"Adam. Upstairs. 314, look in 314."

"We will, I promise." Gates soothed.

"Get him on a stretcher and back to the infirmary. Something stabbed him and got busy in there." The medics called for assistance.

"Look upstairs!"Riley insisted.

"I will." Forrest reassured again.

"Blood loss. He's delirious." One of the medics muttered in an undertone.

"I know." Gates replied in the same low voice.

Riley tried to sit up. They had to take him seriously. "I'm not delirious!"

"Of course not, Agent. Now, just relax, the more agitated you are, the faster it flows..."

Great. Die to get in here, and do they listen? They didn't know how screwed up the world was, couldn't believe how weird things could be, labs above labs, monsters making monsters. But someone else knew. Someone else had been there. "Buffy! She knows! She was there!" Riley grabbed onto his friend's wrist.

Gates' ears perked up at that.

"Working with Adam?" His eyes narrowed.

"No- against." He blinked in a dazed way, realization hitting him, just as he began to black out. "She's one of the good guys."

"If you say so."

"Please... ask her." Riley whispered, and then sleep overtook him.

"I'll ask her." Gates patted his fallen friend's shoulder. _Damn right I'll ask her..._

"Finn again?" The new C.O was bustling down the hall towards them as Riley was being carried out on a stretcher. "Good God!"

"It's bad, Sir. Immediate surgery required, he may have internal bleeding." The leading medical officer replied as he triaged him on the move.

"Operate. Then move him."

"Move him? Sir, in his condition-"

"He's a damn fine soldier. Brave. Too brave. He runs to the action. He's going to get himself killed, get his unit killed too, if he keeps fighting hurt, when he doesn't need to." The C.O said gruffly. "Put him in a civilian hospital, with a round the clock guard. Keep him out of the action."

* * *

><p>"You know, even our supposedly non-violent recon missions end up pretty action-packed." Spike floored the gas and roared wildly down the street.<p>

"Less action would be good." Buffy sighed.

"Less violent action." Spike mumbled. The smacked his head on his palm. "Did you hear what I said? I've gone all soft! I'm turnin' into a fuckin' white knight in shinin' armor!"

Buffy laughed so hard she snorted. "Sorry- sorry- I know you're brave sometimes, but you- you as a knight? Gallant and chivalrous and-" She stopped suddenly.

Spike's eyes fixed on the road. _I wasn't in shining armor. Was as black as could be, not a drop of white aside from my skin. But I was her knight. I was her faithful servant, her devoted one. I was courtly and attentive. She was my lady. I would've slayed a hundred dragons for her._

"Sorry. I'm sorry, Spike, I wasn't thinking." Buffy apologized sincerely.

"No worries. You don't need a knight." He shrugged roughly, making sure her soft hand didn't rest on his sleeve as it was hesitantly reaching for him.

"I- I don't need a knight." Buffy whispered.

"Got that through my thick skull the first time I watched you fight, Pet."

Buffy looked at her hands, hearing something strange come out of her mouth, something totally unexpected- but somehow true. "Sometimes I still need saving." _From myself. From fate. From being Chosen with a capital c and that rhymes with t and that stands for terribly sucky life... Sometimes he saves my life. Sometimes he saves my heart..._

"Sometimes I could use a bit of savin' myself." Spike croaked out, throat suddenly dry.

"We're both strong. And sometimes- not so much." Buffy whispered.

"True."

"Maybe we could- rescue each other?"

This time her hand landed on his leg, so tentative, and trembling just a little bit. Spike pulled that car over by the side street leading to Giles'. Her eyes were so wide, shining even in the dark. _We hold a lot in, her an' I. Hold all the pain in until we're alone together. Like now._ He took her hand and used it to pull her close, speaking urgently.

"She was strong, you know. She still needed a knight. I could do it! I just don't want to do it anymore!" He hissed furiously, eyes stinging as memories of a century of love and devotion had been so easily tossed aside.

"I don't want you to!" Buffy's hiss was just a violent, her hands resting on his shoulders now, frantically shaking her head. "I don't want to be a damsel in distress, I don't want to be super slayer, I just want me to be me- with you."

"That'll work. As messed up as it is." He kissed her hungrily. "Thought you wanted to be saved, looked after?" He panted in her ear, aware that his hands were heading south.

"No. Not like that. Not like him. I want help. But I don't want to be helpless." She moved suddenly and straddled him with a whimper. "But you- you like strong women. But you like taking care of-"

"I like you. Treatin' you special. Not treatin' you like you need me, as in need me to keep you from fallin' apart. Not like her." Hands in her hair, her hands on his shirt, his belt, his zip- oh, sweet bloody torment, why would she get him out now?

"Not like them. Like us?" Buffy tugged at her own pants, realizing this was never going to work, and not sure why panicked about Adam, demon factorization, and the equally bad choice of fates for her ex boyfriend should have turned into urgent Spike cravings.

"Yeah. Like us. Not like them. Not a love like that, it's a different kind of love." Spike gave up the battle and slammed her down across the front seat, yanking her pants to her thighs, still zipped, making her cry out, in a good way, of course.

"Different kind of love... but it's still love." Buffy bit his lip as she sucked it into her mouth, sucking his hard cock into her not quite wet little chasm. The filled sensation was intense, fast and hard. It made no sense that rugged rutting should make her heart feel like it was cracking and being put back together on each thrust.

"Yeah, Luv. It is." Spike rested his forehead to hers, eyes locked in a glistening battle of pain and pleasure, letting go of old hurts, old preconceptions, and just accepting that sometimes love didn't fit any definition. "It just is."

She nodded, choking on words, and finally just kissing him, wrapping her legs up over his, confined as they were, feeling her foot smack into the steering wheel, and the other rest on the door handle. She was taking him inside, making the outside world drop away until there was nothing but a steady noise of his heated grunts against her skin, and the steady solid thrust of his hips on hers. Somewhere, dimly, in the background, she was aware of other noises, but they were all muted under tidal waves of passion crashing over her.

* * *

><p>In the background of the intense study session, Giles looked up and cocked his head. "D'you hear that?"<p>

"What?" Willow was deep in concentration.

"A noise. Beep- beep- beep." Giles looked in the direction of the side street leading to his flat. "Some sort of rhythmic honking."

"It's called a car alarm. Cars made after Roosevelt left office have those." Xander explained patiently, jibbing Giles' ancient Citroen.

"Well- it's bloody annoying. That thing must've been going on for ten minutes now. Anya, shut the window, would you?"

"Sure thing." Anya slammed the window shut to drown the steady, rhythmic sound of the horn. It was speeding up, speeding up, speeding up- and then one long prolonged blast before it fell silent.

"That's the weirdest alarm I've ever heard." Tara frowned.

"I know." Xander shook his head. "Never heard that kind before."

* * *

><p>Buffy untangled her heel from the steering wheel, flushed and limp as Spike tried to help her up. "I can't believe I didn't even notice that." She berated herself.<p>

"Can't say I noticed it. Not at all." Spike had been too busy looking at her, listening to her, heartbeat bursting against his own silent chest, making him alive all over again.

"Do you think anyone else heard the beeping?" She asked.

He smiled and tucked himself back in his jeans."Nah. No one around here ever notices a thing."


	18. Chapter 18

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Dedicated to ginar369- who reviews like nobody's business!, Cavementftw, elizadarcy183, RedEclipedTwilight, fangfaceandrea, Hachimanskisune, Cherilynn. L'Ombre, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Lalabuff,, micmoc, DLillith21,Little Missy123, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and sbyamibakura. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XVIII

"I guess you found him, huh?" Willow opened the door for Buffy and Spike, who both looked flushed and rumpled.

"What? Oh- yeah. We found him." Buffy blushed and was glad for her glowing cheeks.

"Did you have a confrontation with him?" Giles asked with concern.

"No, just- um- just found out here he is. Which is so not a good place." Buffy shrugged out of her tan jacket. Spike unceremoniously walked out of the living room, past everyone, and into the kitchen.

"Then why are you all sweaty and disheveled?" Anya asked in her best "I'm trying to express typical human concern" voice.

"Escaping before the confrontation could happen." Spike's strident tone replied from the kitchen. "Rupes, how old is this blood?"

"The date's on the brown bag." Giles called back. "Escaping?" He turned his gaze to Buffy.

"No big. Really. Geez, it's hot in here." She complained.

"We shut the windows. Someone's car alarm went nuts." Xander got off the couch to reopen it. From the kitchen there came the sound of a clatter.

"C-car alarm? Really. Wow. Like we don't have enough to worry about without people getting disturbed by _car alarms_." Buffy's voice became louder on the last two words, and her head tilted towards the direction of the noise in the next room.

"Spike, don't break anything!" Giles warned.

"Just knocked something over. Nothing broken." Spike emerged empty handed, blood heating in the microwave. He avoided Buffy's glare. Not his fault the sound of her breathless moans seemed louder than a car horn going off two feet away. He was a vampire. All that breathing, pulsing, heart beating noise was like an auditory drug, all consuming and when it was with her...back to the matter at hand. "So- are we ready to get all joined up? 'Cause we really can't afford to wait."

"That bad?" Xander looked at Buffy for confirmation.

"That bad." She sighed. "There's something in the caves. It's like those concealed elevators the Initiative has- and based on it's location, it probably goes straight down into the lab area."

"Sneaky bastard. Sitting right on top of them." Xander muttered.

"Not to mention, Adam's sitting on everything he needs for his demon making party." Spike scowled.

"We stopped him from getting the parts and supplies he needed a few days ago, but if he decides he wants to get started - he has everything he needs right under him." Buffy shivered suddenly._ Everything he needs- and my ex boyfriend. I hope Riley's okay..._

"Openly attack the Initiative?" Giles frowned uncertainly.

"It's not so crazy- well- if you're _already_ crazy. He's got a Trojan Horse set up just waiting to happen." Willow chewed her lip nervously.

"He's taking on a small army though!" Tara gasped out. She didn't want to consider that scenario. Magic was her safety. It had never been her weapon before. Of course- she looked at Willow and stiffened her lip- she'd never had anything worth fighting for before, either.

The soft chink of metal broke a pregnant pause after Tara's exclamation, as Spike lit up a smoke."Yeah- but he's got a small army of his own."

* * *

><p>"Okay- this isn't regular army..." Riley woke up and blinked at the soft pink pastel curtains and television mounted in the corner of the room. "It isn't Adam's either, so- where the heck am I?" Riley groaned and tried to sit up, only to find fire snaking along every inch of muscle.<p>

"You're up pretty quickly for a man who's just had emergency surgery." A pretty nurse in pale green scrubs was suddenly in his range of vision.

"I- where am I?"

"Sunnydale Memorial. You came with quite the nasty-"

"Uh-huh, yeah, I need to get going, so can you get me some release forms or something?" Riley shoved his normal politeness aside for the moment.

"Well- no. I mean- I'd get you a doctor, but those guys-" The nurse pointed to two figures stationed outside of the room, "wouldn't allow it. You're supposed to be here for a minimum of three days. No leaving. Orders." She smiled apologetically. "I have to say I agree with them, Mr. Finn. We only saw you post-operative, but you have an eclectic taste in injuries, I have to say." She scooted Riley back into a lying down position, looking at his monitors with a smooth practiced eye as she spoke in a flawless "bedside manner" voice.

"I need to call my- I need to contact someone about this." Riley murmured faintly, fighting to stay awake, eyeing the doorway. Would they allow that? He'd never been one of those suspicious "the man is watching", "conspiracy theories are true" guys, not even when he'd learned there was a lot of truth in those fears, even knowing all that was going on under Joe Public's nose, he'd never felt worried. Right up until Adam could literally flip a switch and make him into some kind of robot. "Can I do that?"

The nurse shrugged. "Free country. There's a phone right here, you dial two to get an outside line and any long distance calls are put on your bill, okay?"

"Okay." Riley reached over painfully, and held the receiver. He hoped Buffy was home.

* * *

><p>"Not home." Gates slammed down the phone after his fifth call to the girl's house and her dorm. Her records were easy to find, the Initiative had this town <em>wired<em>. He sighed and picked the phone up once more, and waited until the message came on again. "It's about Riley. Not that you care, but he's in bad shape. In the hospital." He let out a sudden derisive snort. "I wonder if you put him there. You were with Adam up in the lab, huh? That's what he says. He might be delirious. Fact, I know he is. He still wanted me to call you."

Gates walked out of the clerk's office and past rows of lit cages, down to where the fabled 314 lab wasn't guarded by agents, but it was under electronic security that rivaled the White House's. Whatever plans Walsh had hatched in there, they weren't meant for the eyes of the common soldier, that was for damn sure. Still, there were ways around that now. In Finn's absence, Gates was squad leader. His clearance code would be given heightened priority these days, after the recent attack that freed the werewolf, and the loss of a number of agents to the disabled list and one or two to the morgue, God rest them. Adam had a lot of things to answer for.

But some cooked up secret lab in the ceiling? That wasn't one of those things. Gates' security code worked, letting him in, and he gazed around. Spotless. Poor Riley. The injuries- getting trapped in that crater with Adam... he had battlefield fatigue from the strangest battlefield, the kind you didn't even see in your nightmares, 'cause most human imaginations couldn't fathom this weirdness.

Gates got the creeps in this place. He looked around once more, and hurried out. Riley was hallucinating. Had to be. Not one single trace pointed to anything but fevered dreams of an injured man. Shaking his head as he walked away, Gates wondered where Finn had really been, and what had happened to him. He had to be doing something lately that was getting him all beat up- the broken jaws alone...

"At least he's safe now."

* * *

><p>"Now that's done with, we need to consider the next step." Adam told his devoted lackey, one of his small but vicious vampires. "I've already wasted enough time cleaning up after Finn." He didn't understand what was happening to him- he supposed it was a feeling of bitterness, only he had no emotions not triggered by biological or programmatic functions. Yet, there is was- upset and annoyance because Finn had escaped and killed Mother. Really killed her, and she couldn't be fixed, decomposition had set in too rapidly with the artificial assistance torn out of her. Most annoyingly- the amount of time wasted in covering up his "brother's" mess. "Family is a terribly overrated concept." Adam mused.<p>

"What, your most Blended One?" The vampire inquired.

"Nothing of importance. No one discovered my true base of operations. No one penetrated it, I should say, though the Slayer, Spike, and Finn now know the area. But none of the agents have discovered it. Yet. But we can't wait any longer. They force my hand more often than is statistically probable. The time has arrived."

"The time has come? For the Great Unification?"

"Yes." Adam nodded. "I place you in charge of two simple tasks. Fail me and I'll remove each appendage slowly until we uncover the exact moment the vampiric form turns to dust."

The henchman gulped loudly, yellow eyes terror-struck at the thought. "I won't fail." He finally managed to speak hoarsely.

"I've covered up any tracks Agent Finn may have left. Based on the amount of blood in the hall, and his previous injuries, I'd say he was in no condition to lead a search mission. Any information he was able to relate will probably be regarded with skepticism. Blood loss, injuries, recent battles- they probably assumed he was delusional and he was probably incoherent. However, as soon as he's able, I'm sure he'll be determined to expose the lab, expose me in general."

"But the army operatives haven't been able to injure you."

"No. That doesn't mean I wish to waste my time fighting them off. And even if they doubt Finn, they'll still be more alert. They know something happened to him, and he mysteriously disappeared from the base and ended up inside the heart of it several hours later. They know something happened, and they'll be on guard. The ones who found Finn tonight may expect something to happen. That was never a possibility, in any of my scenarios." Adam frowned. "It can't happen. The element of surprise may have been weakened but it isn't absent completely. We must make the best use of it."

"Of course, Sir. But what exactly do you want me to-"

Adam continued in his deep steady voice as if the smaller creature hadn't spoken. "We'll be waiting until the rotation changes, and new agents come in. We need to give them about an hour, to make sure the agents from tonight's shift are mostly off the premises. They'll be back once the battle begins, but I'd prefer to take them in waves- since our numbers are somewhat depleted after the unsuccessful raids a few days ago." He glared at the former human.

"Um- good plan." The vampire offered loyally, privately getting less certain about how well this would work. Everything seemed to be going wrong lately, and their numbers weren't just depleted, they were demoralized. Except the ones on the inside. They probably didn't know how screwed up things were getting. Still- Adam's ideals were inspirational. A race made entirely of super strong, infallible beings, able to rule the humans like they deserved- talk about 24 hours buffets...

"All of my plans are good." Adam said without any hint of bragging, stating a simple fact. "They're all mathematically perfect. It's the unknowns that ruin any sound equation." He faced the vampire with a new intensity in his gaze. "Which brings me back to the point. We cannot wait any longer. We attack the Initiative an hour after shift changes. That's in about six hours. You have six hours to do these two simple things. One: Get one of the telepathic demons on the outside to broadcast the message to the telepathic demon we have stationed on the inside. spread the word, but tell them to remain calm and act as they have been. Liberation, liberation of this _world_, is at hand."

The vampire nodded, eyes alight, confidence returned. The liberation of the world. Turning it into the demon playground it should be. What a beautiful thought. "I'll do that. I know where she is, I'll find her right now-"

"You'll also need to assemble all the others who fight for our noble cause. They'll need to enter the facility in unison with the internal outbreak."

"But- six hours, that's in daylight, it's-"

"There are tunnels. There are cars. There is shade. Don't make any excuses. Simply instruct them to be present- or prepare to enjoy life on the bottom of the food chain."

"Right. Right, that's what I'll tell them. Uh- where will you be,Your Visionary-ness?"

"Getting things ready." Adam said vaguely, mind neatly organizing and categorizing which parts he needed and how much laboratory space he had to put his new creations together. "Go. Now. Six hours from this moment- I'll use Walsh's override clearances to release all the demons inside, and you will ensure that everyone on the outside is waiting to join us. You may leave now."

* * *

><p>"Now that we've all arrived-" Giles glanced uncertainly at Buffy and Spike who seemed to be in an odd mood, tense and jumpy, but not with each other, with the rest of them- "we can get started."<p>

"Sorry. Uh- the Adam thing. Caused some distractions." Buffy said vaguely, hoping her telltale flush would be attributed to running or fighting, not having Spike's hot, frantic, pounding body slamming her into the front seat of the car.

"Uh- right. The whole- Adam thing." Spike said in a falsely hearty, focused voice, still mentally wondering how the hell he hadn't noticed Buffy's foot caught in the steering wheel, blowing hell out of the horn for a solid ten minutes of rough, needy shagging.

"At least you found the location." Giles peered over his lenses.

"Oh, boy did we find the location." Buffy sighed. "And guess who was there?"

"Minions?" Anya suggested brightly.

"Maybe one. Maybe none." Spike tapped his nose. "Smelled of somethin' like corpse but not quite. And Solider Boy was somewhere about the place."

"Riley? In cahoots with Adam? No! No, no, no. The guy might be completely messed up, but he hates Adam! There would be no cahooting." Xander rose from his chair with a shout.

"He hates Adam. He also apparently hates me." Buffy looked miserably into her lap.

" 'Cause he's a bloody wanker. A stupid, head up his ass git who didn't see what a great girl he-" Spike stopped at Buffy's wide eyed incredulous stare. "Well. Y'know. If you like that sort of thing." He waved a hand roughly in Buffy's direction.

"Whoa." Anya voiced the general consensus of shock.

"Spike's insightful, okay?" Buffy snipped off defensively, before looking at her knees again. "and he's trying to be nice. So I don't put him in some aura head-lock when my power gets all balance-y with his power.

"Speaking of which-"Giles cleared his throat insistently, eyeing the blonde pair on the sofa with a speculative eye, "we need to prepare a few things so we _do_ remain in balance. Quickly, fill us in on Riley. No one," he looked threateningly at the occupants of the room, "interrupt. Or comment. Or state an opinion. Just facts, please."

"I could smell Buffy's ex-honey when we opened the panel to this secret lift in the caves."

"Secret lift?" Willow tilted her head.

"You could tell that?" Tara leaned forward curiously.

"Buffy? Since when do you call her Buffy?" Xander demanded. "It's always 'Slayer', in that really annoying voice."

"What did I just say? Honestly, no one listens." Giles put his head back with a moan.

"I call her what I like. Watch, hullo, Bitch." Spike refuted Xander's comment with a glare at Buffy.

"There's this elevator thingy in the waaaaay back of the caves." Buffy answered Willow, not even sparing Spike a glance.

"Vampire's can smell really, really well. Like bloodhounds. Ha, that's sort of funny, isn't it?" Anya replied to Tara. Giles groaned again.

"Finn's slipped his leash, he's a nutter. He might've made a truce with the enemy. Not the first time something like that's ever happened." Spike pointed out.

"Or he could be captured. Maybe Adam thinks he'd be a good bargaining chip. Since h-he's important to you. Or w-was." Tara stammered hesitantly.

"None of that really matters." Buffy decided with sudden firmness. "If he's a prisoner- o-or he's working with Adam, we need to get down there and stop Adam. We can rescue Riley or -do whatever we have to do with him." Buffy's insides shriveled some more. _Do all my boyfriends turn evil? Am I going to have to put Riley down like some mad dog? Overtones of Angelus. Unless they're bad to start with- they go bad. Maybe._ Buffy looked at Spike. Someone she had begun to love. _He's already bad. What if he slips? Oh, God, what if he slips? What am I saying? There's no slips, he's not trying to be good. He just can't be bad right now. And right now, he- he just wants me. Loves me, he says he loves me. But he never said he'd stop killing. Although maybe he'd try to... I can't deal with this, I can't deal with all of this..._

Buffy's friends watched her face take on a closed over look, eyes wild inside a stone face.

"It won't be like Angelus." Giles murmured soothingly, correctly interpreting Buffy's abrupt shut down. At least partially. "Riley is human. He has a soul. He can be saved."

Buffy started again, and nodded jerkily. _Saved him. I could have saved him, but I didn't. I chose Spike. I saved Spike. Spike, who's already dead and soulless and can't be saved._

Beside her, Spike's thick soled boot gently nudged her own toes. Buffy risked a glance in his direction. He stared straight ahead, but he was right beside her. He was with her. He loved her, and he hadn't left her. Never going to leave her. _I saved the right one. The one I need. The one I can love, even if it's a broken, twisted love._

Giles was still speaking. "- military experts in rehabilitation after combat, post traumatic stress and all that. All you'd have to do is contain him."

"And we can handle that, Buff, if you need us to." Xander reached across the coffee table and squeezed her knee. "And I think we're jumping the gun. Riley might be nuts, but he hates demons. Like- obsessively hates demons."

"To the point where he's hurting humans who might be associated with them." Willow rubbed her arm where Riley had grabbed her so hard she actually felt scared of him. "If anything, maybe Riley went down on his own. To figure out a way to kill more of them at once, to find out more about Adam's plan."

"Then he's really going to need saving." Anya sighed, scooting herself into Xander's lap. "I mean- if we, a bunch of pretty strong and mystically beefed-up people need to become metaphysically glued together to even hurt this guy, one severely injured human with a broken jaw and a recent trip to a bottomless pit doesn't stand a chance."

Everyone exchanged a look. "Alright. Stitch us up, Wills." Xander held out his forearm resolutely. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Giles?"

"Strengthening spell first. For everyone but Buffy and Spike. Spike- you need to feed. That is- drink. As much as you can."

"My pleasure. Any takers?" Spike licked his teeth and smiled sardonically.

"There's plenty of beef blood in the fridge." Giles pointed. Spike stalked off with his currently empty mug in search of a refill. "Buffy, you need to rest. All of us do, but mainly you."

"Why mainly me? Is there some catch I'm going to really hate finding out about?" She pouted.

"You're the vessel. All of us join with you."

"Oh." Buffy nodded.

"If you're not strong enough to hold the shell- poof crash." Willow gestured with her hands, making a circle in the air and then jerking her hands apart like an explosion. Buffy winced.

"B-but you _are_ strong enough. The slayer side is still part of you." Tara soothed. "You should just rest. For the sake of b-both sides. And Spike should be doing whatever he needs to, too. Since his power is going to have to counter yours."

"Spike's the lynchpin of this whole deal, huh?" Xander rested his head on Anya's. "This is going to suck."

"Yeah, well-" Spike sauntered back in, coffee cup of crimson fluid in hand, "If I screw up, all of us go - what'd you call it, Red? 'Crash poof'?" He kicked his legs up on the table as he sat back on the couch. Buffy roughly shoved them off with an exasperated noise. "I don't wanna be blasted into 'crash poof' territory, so I'll play along, alright?"_ Gotta play nice. If I mess this up- I'll lose the girl. The Slayer side is lovely, but without the girl- well, odd how that dumb little airhead completes the package._

"We'll all play nice. We can't screw this up, and we have to hurry. Adam is sitting on his own species assembly line!" Buffy threw up her hands. "Let's do this!"

"I need some more time. I have to enchant this thing." Giles held up a large gourd.

"What the hell is that?" Spike sat up straight.

"Is that a squash?" Buffy leaned forward as well.

"It's a gourd, actually." Giles blushed. He felt very silly going into battle with a pack of cards and an enchanted vegetable. "Once these symbols are carved into it, those who plan to unite have to-er- for lack of more accurate terms- program it to recognize their essences."

"Say what now?" Buffy reached out to touch the gourd and Giles protectively cradled it.

"Don't poke at it! See these symbols?" He gestured to the silvery carvings in the skin of the gourd. "They represent each of us."

"What is that? Aramaic for Willow?" The redhead peered closer.

"No, it's Sumerian. And not for Willow- for your role. All of us have a part. If we could sit in a circle, we could explain as we do?" Giles gestured to the floor.

"I'm not holdin' hands. Had enough of that lately." Spike frowned at Red and her gal pal, recalling their recent protection spell.

"You will hold hands or you will be filling up an ashtray." Giles said complacently, and pulled his desk chair close to the edge of the rug. "Tara- would you go over the cards?"

"Sure." Tara sat gracefully, and Willow beside her. Xander scooted in, while Anya curled up in the armchair and watched apprehensively. "These are elemental cards. Here, Buffy, Spike- these are cards for the old powers."

"Lux?" Buffy took a card with a glowing flame on it.

"Light." Tara nodded.

"Oh."

"Nox. Darkness?" Spike looked at his card disdainfully, showing a nighttime landscape.

"And this one." Tara held out a card that showed roots holding a tree to a precipice. "Ancoris. The anchor."

"I'm the anchor? Oh, bloody hell, can't I be something a bit more flash? A little less stolid and a lot more_ grr!_" Spike vamped and Tara dropped the card as she flinched. "Sorry." Spike mumbled before he could prevent himself.

"Your only Buffy's anchor. I'm everyone else's. It has to be you." Tara swallowed. "No one else has the power."

"Shut up and do it." Buffy seized the card from the floor and shoved it into his hand.

Tara went through and handed out the rest of the cards. "Willow- Spiritus, the Spirit. Giles, Sophos, mind. Xander, Animus, Heart. Buffy, Manus, the Hand. And here's mine." Tara held up a simple dark green card. "Planum. The plane. I keep all of you rooted to this plane- the human pieces, even when your auras combine and filter through the gourd, then surround Buffy. Spike's power and Buffy's power get anchored through him."

"You have to say it in the right order or it's like building a house without the foundations. A window here, a wall there, maybe put the roof on first..." Xander explained to Buffy in terms he could understand from his day as a researcher combined with his background in construction.

"Tara goes first." Willow nodded. "Then you build the body, inside to outside. So Buffy, you say your card last. The hand is the most external part."

"No, first you harness the powers, then you build the body." Anya commented from her position as spectator. "Otherwise Buffy's aura is going to eat yours up."

"Great. Let's forget a step, shall we?" Spike growled around the circle. "God, no wonder no one in the demon world understands how you lot survive."

"It's not like we do this spell stuff all the time." Buffy hissed and elbowed him.

"Not all of us. And it's tricky with so many pieces!" Willow defended her girlfriend and herself, as a fellow witch.

"Let's not argue. Let's practice." Giles sighed and gestured to Tara. "You. Then Spike, both, then Buffy- with the Light, not the hand. And don't use the cards yet. That action activates the enjoining. Right now, we just want the gourd to be prepared."

"So we say what's on the cards, but only certain cards?" Buffy asked, holding both out in front of her.

"Should I write this down for you?" Anya offered.

"Maybe..." Buffy chewed the inside of her cheek.

"We're all going to die." Xander and Spike said as one.

"Oh, shit. The world_ is _ending." Xander looked thoroughly repulsed by his accidental thought sharing.

"Not if we say this in order." Willow yanked Xander's hand into hers and seized Tara's in the other. "Let's go!"

After many false starts, they had the proceedings in the correct order and Giles set the gourd in the center of the circle with a grave expression.

"Planum." Tara intoned.

"Ancoris." Spike muttered. Buffy nudged him. "Oh, Nox."

"Lux." Buffy whispered.

"Spiritus." Willow's eyes flared black for a split second.

"Animus." Xander touched his own chest, feeling his heart strengthen.

"Sophos." Giles watched intently, relieved to see the gourd's ruddy orange color turning silver, and the symbols light briefly as the words were spoken.

"Manus." Buffy gripped Spike's hand tightly, and he gave it a reassuring squeeze. The gourd glowed and then faded to a dull gray.

"Um. Should we feel something? Aside from the warm glow of knowing that I am the heart, the core, of this little band of vigilantes, doing good in the dark of evil night?" Xander asked.

"Bloody hell." Spike shook off Buffy's hand and lit a cigarette.

"No. Nothing yet. Tomorrow morning- you should feel something when you place your card down on the sacred circle. Tara do you have-"

"I have the chalk." Tara nodded to Giles.

"In that case- all of us should grab what rest we can. The gourd should be done 'initializing' in a few hours. Four to be on the safe side."

"We'll meet in the clearing by the cave. No- no, in case Adam's got sentries prowling around, I don't want us to show up there separated. Meet at our dorm." Buffy commanded.

"Excellent. Buffy, make sure you bring your best weapons. As in those that do the most damage. Everyone else- I'll have the car boot full." Giles nodded.

"We should go. Do the pre-apocalyptic major battle sex." Anya tugged Xander to her side. "In case someone dies."

"Oh, geez, Honey, everyone's going to be fine."Xander lied confidently.

"Buffy, are you okay if I-" Willow nodded at Tara. "I mean- in case..."

"Yeah. Yeah! Go, go make with the big- what Anya said." Buffy smiled with false cheerfulness.

"But Mr. Giles-" Tara hissed to Willow.

"I'm too tired to worry about my non-existent sex life right now. If I don't get some sleep, nothing is going to go well tomorrow. Meet in front of the dorm in about four hours. Tara, the chalk and cards if you would, I'll have the weapons and this -magically potent vegetable. Anya-"

"I'll be there to watch the strengthening spell and pray to various deities." Anya nodded. "Then pace anxiously in the lobby until your return."

"That works." Buffy let out a nervous laugh. "We better get some sleep." She hugged Giles tightly as the others left. "Your ankle. Do you have to come with us? It's not going to be super easy or anything."

"I can hardly let you go alone. No matter what happened this year- I'm your Watcher. I will always be that. I will always be waiting to help you. No matter what we said or did, either of us."

"Giles... I'm sorry I got wrapped up in myself. I mean- no, not in myself, exactly. In Riley. In a lot of stuff. I'm always your slayer though." She blinked up at him. "You never threw me away. Even when I did stupid things." _Please let that be a permanent thing with us..._

"Buffy- you're human, and not perfect. No one is." He licked his lips as they suddenly dried out. There was so much he'd noticed and said nothing about recently. So much he turned a blind eye to, even though he knew he was letting her slide in deeper. With Spike. He didn't know what exactly was happening, but it was obvious that they had developed a very unusual sort of relationship, possibly even a friendship. "You will do imperfect things." He smiled softly. "But you will always do extraordinary things. And you will always be a power for good. What the world needs."

Buffy felt reassured in one second and sickened the next as the weight of the world slammed across her small back yet again. "Sometimes I don't want to be what the world needs. And the imperfect things are so much easier. And they're not always good." She looked at him through lowered lids, uncertain.

He looked back, eyes open, but equally unsure. "Buffy, sometimes when we're unhappy we-"

"I'm not unhappy. Anymore." Buffy cut him off as she suddenly realized it was true, at least mostly true.

"Have you been?" Giles asked in surprise.

"Yeah." She whispered. "Kinda for- for a couple years now."

He wasn't a hugger, but he hugged now. "I'm so sorry, my dear. If you need anything that I can give you, you will tell me?"

"Promise me you won't think I'm a stupid kid. That I can't make grown-up decisions. Even if they don't seem smart, as long as they keep me from going insane or running away from everything and everyone." She whispered into his chest, clinging to him in a sudden spasm.

Taken aback, Giles nodded. "You have, as I've learned, always had good motives for your actions. For everything you've ever done." He patted her back comfortingly.

"So have you." Buffy kissed his cheek. "I gotta get home. I'm beat. And whoa, busy day tomorrow. I mean, today." She laughed. He smiled and inclined his head, showing her the door.

A car horn beeped impatiently and Buffy groaned. Spike's black De Soto was parked just out of sight, behind the hedges lining the flats, and apparently he was getting impatient.

"Damn and blast that car alarm!" Giles hissed.

"It's just Spike. He's giving me a ride, I guess." Buffy shrugged casually and waved as she slipped down the stairs and into the courtyard.

Giles mumbled angrily to himself as he watched her walk away, already heading inside to the phone and call the police about a disturbance of the peace. "No, it's that same ruddy alarm, it was going off for a solid ten minutes earlier, strangest thing I've... ever..." Giles throat closed suddenly, and he replaced the receiver with a sharp plastic click.

No. No, he wouldn't contemplate that strange coincidence. He wouldn't think about it until he could ask Buffy some questions alone, in private. In his head, he heard the relentless, rhythmic beep of the car horn, and recalled its sudden cadences and prolonged bursts.

Just because the horns sounded similar didn't mean anything. Certainly not that Buffy and Spike were- no. Giles tore off his glasses and marched resolutely up to bed. He ignored the similarities of the horns. He ignored the fact that the beeping hadn't gone on this time, that it had ended after three short blares. Oddly ending almost at the same time as Buffy and Spike left in his car. Odd how it had begun just a few minutes before Buffy and Spike had arrived.

"It's an utterly ridiculous idea. Heavens, I'd have to ask Buffy if she and Spike were-" Giles blanched. He couldn't, in a million years, imagine asking Buffy if she were performing sexual acts in Spike's car, with Spike himself, no less. "On second thought- probably best to leave it." He stumbled into bed and lay in the darkness, eyes staring at nothing, but seeing so many unwanted sights in his head.

What had they just spoken of? The permanency of the Watcher/ Slayer bond. Would anything she did ever make him leave? Make him love her less? No. So really, he could avoid ever mentioning the uncomfortable questions, unless he believed her to be in danger.

Was she in danger? Spike might be a right bastard, but he was a fairly harmless one at the moment. And odd though it was- one Buffy could turn to in the recent crises. One who he'd seen protect her, verbally or physically. _He's becoming a friend. What a stomach turning thought. However, that could mean..._

"Yes... best to leave it be, not mention it, at least until this situation is dealt with. Or perhaps...perhaps I'll leave it on a more permanent basis." So saying, he closed his eyes, and fell into an exhausted sleep.

_To be continued..._


	19. Chapter 19

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's note: Mushy smut! Taboo-ish, mushy smut. Skim if mush or vampiric tendencies in the bedroom both you._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, elizadarcy183, jackiemack916, RedEclipedTwilight, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, Lalabuff,, micmoc, DLillith21- who provides beautiful inspiration-,Little Missy123, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Vera Snape-Evans, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and sbyamibakura. _

_**Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine.**_

Part XIX

"We should sleep." Tara murmured between giggling, hungry kisses.

"We will." Willow promised.

"But rest. We're supposed to rest." Tara made one more feeble protest as they tumbled to the bed, sending their new kitten scurrying for safety. "Oh! Sorry, Miss Kitty!"

"Poor baby, come here." Willow made little cooing sounds and beckoned, but the tiny black and white kitten ignored her and began to wash its paws in a very disdainful way at the foot of the bed. "She's mad at me." Willow pouted.

"I'm not." Tara whispered, pecking her cheek. "And kitty'll get over it."

"Well, I guess I can worry about kitty later. Since that's not the only pussy I'm interested in." Willow gave a naughty smile and Tara gasped and batted at her.

"Willow Rosenberg! You have a dirty mind!" Tara giggled.

"It's not dirty if you're in love."

"And you are? With me?" Tara's normally soft face softened even further, that wistful little girl peeping out from a woman's facade.

Willow nodded, her own face melting into a similar look of yearning. "I love you, Baby." She murmured softly.

"I love you. I-if anything h-happens today..." Tara gulped twice, trying to speak around the sudden ball of tears that lodged in her throat.

"Shhh. Nothing's going to happen. We've faced way worse things than Adam. And we never had you on our side before. Everything is going to be just fine." Willow swore, soothingly brushing her lover's flaxen hair off her face.

"B-but if not- it'd b-be all my fault."

"So when it works- you can take all the credit?" Willow arched one eyebrow.

"No! It was just an idea, everyone's going to work hard and Buffy is the one who- Oh." Tara blushed. "Sneaky."

"I so am." Willow preened and then rolled, so they were face to face, side to side,caressing. "We all work together. No one has all the fault, or takes all the credit. We just all try our best."

Tara nodded, much relieved, although privately dwelling on the fact that everyone tried, but not everyone was responsible for anchoring auras to this dimension or making the suggestions on how to actually use the spell. But if she wasted all her energy worrying about that, she'd fail. And she couldn't fail. Willow and all the other people she was growing to love were riding on this. Like Willow said, everyone does their best.

Tara smiled with more confidence than she felt. "You're right, Sweetie. Now, come here. I want to try my best at some other things..." Tara crooked a finger at her lover, and she eagerly came closer.

* * *

><p>"Are you close?" Anya purred, riding her stallion in an exuberant bucking frenzy.<p>

"Uh- yeah." Xander made a strangled noise. Anya took sex seriously, especially before or after a crisis. The night after they'd rescued Oz? He'd thought they might not only break the the bed, but maybe the floor. Heck, maybe even the foundation.

She nodded, and babbled frantically. "Good. Because once you cum, -and I cum again, of course, I'm going to -"

"Ahn, Ahn, Sweetie, take it easy." Xander caught her hands as they stroked his chest.

"But- but making love is the highest form of intimate expression, of conveying love." Anya told him desperately. "I didn't always know that, but now I do."

"I agree, Baby, and I do. Love you." Xander let them slow and pulled her head down to his, kissing her, smiling up into those brown eyes. "So you don't have to rush."

"Yes, I do. So I can show you multiple times and ways. Like telling you over and over." She bit her lower lip and looked at him with scared eyes. "I haven't loved anyone in over a thousand years, Xander. I never knew how to tell people then- I'm afraid you won't know now...unless I keep showing you."

"But I do know, Anya. I believe you. I trust you when you tell me."

"I thought you - well, you tell me I don't talk right or act right or I'm too blunt, I say things the wrong way..." Anya peered down at him.

Xander lost his smile. "Yeah. You do all those things. I do all those things, too. Differently, of course, I just have the curse of being a dumb American teenage male. Nothing like you have to deal with. But you know what?"

"What?"

"I still love you. I don't want to change you- well, okay, yeah, maybe the blunt part, but only just so it's not quite so...sledgehammer -like."

Anya beamed at him. "Really? You love me? Like this?"

"Totally."

"So I don't have to panic and try to show you so much?"

"No panicking. But-" Xander cupped her curvy rear and pulled it into a grind with his hips, "can we still have this crazy good sex life?"

"Of course! That's gotta be the second best about being in love!"

"What's the first best thing?" Xander chuckled.

"You." She replied simply.

"You're right." He considered. "The first best thing is totally you."

With a sudden shudder, she wrapped herself tightly to his chest. "I'm scared. About losing you tomorrow. Or having all your you-ness smushed up with everyone else's them-ness."

"Shhh. We're going to be fine. And if we get smushed- you'll un-smush us."

"But I-"

"Ahn... in case something bad does happen- shouldn't we be making the best of this?" He hinted, jerking his hips forward.

"Right." Anya regarded him with her best pout and smolder. "I'm going to make you explode one more time- and then we'll sleep."

Xander nodded as he reached down and rubbed the spot where her moist center bounced eagerly on him. "Just one more time?" He teased.

Anya's head lolled back in pleasure."Maybe two more times. But then we rest."

"Deal."

* * *

><p>"Hey... hey, what's the deal, Slayer?" Spike followed her into the darkened house on Revello, and instead of marching upstairs, or turning to him in a frenzied kissing session borne of stress, the girl went headlong into the kitchen.<p>

"You need to eat."

"I will. Thought I'd do it before we head out though. More powerful that way." Spike followed her with the brown bag full of smaller bags they'd taken with them from Giles.

"Well, we both need to eat. There has been serious lack of eating."

"I wouldn't say that." Spike leaned against her, lips on her ear. "Damn near devoured each other earlier.

"Spike... stop." She made a feeble protest and moved away from him slightly.

"Sorry. Thought we might wanna do the big battle pre-shag like Demon Girl was hinting at." Spike backed off with a shrug that masked a lot of unfulfilled desires.

"I do wanna do that! I want to do- everything we can do." Buffy leaned up against him with powerful suddenness.

"But after eating?" He winked down on her, crooked smirk melting her nether regions into steaming velvet.

"I call PB and J sandwiches." Buffy pushed away again and turned to the counter.

"I call beef in a bag." Spike sighed. "Damn chip." He muttered.

"Don't make me get stake happy." Buffy tossed out nonchalantly.

"Not got the urge to drain you dry. Well- not your _blood_." Spike inhaled her scent sweet and clean with overtones of sex and power. a little different. A little- darker than normal. He vamped when she was still turned from him and shook his head to clear it. "Could always drain your battery instead, Luv."

"You tried that. It was a draw, remember?" Buffy made herself a sandwich and ignored Spike as best she could, pretending that him being near her didn't make her crazy with heightened sensations and multitudes of tinglies.

"Yeah... an' I think it took longer than whatever time we've got left."

_Time we've got left. That sounds nice and final. What if this doesn't work? What if it does work? It has to work, and we have to throw everything we can at it._ Buffy bit off a chunk of her hastily made sandwich savagely and stared into the dark lawn through the window over the sink. Behind her, Spike was nuking blood.

They'd go upstairs. They'd make love in the same bed they'd been in earlier. The place where the truth came out. The place where romance and revelations and love came out. Then they'd fall asleep curled up, and go marching off into a homemade hell with nothing but a suped up gourd, a deck of cards and a piece of funky chalk, and the strength of friends and auras to knock Adam out. She still didn't know what to do to kill him. In all the hurry, all they'd known was more strength was needed, and they'd found a way to procure it. They still didn't know if he had any surefire weakness.

"You're s'posed to put the sandwich in your mouth, not crumble it down the drain." Spike's voice seemed unnaturally loud and gruff behind her and she yelped and spun.

"Yeah well- you don't even eat, so- shut up." Buffy shoved another large piece in her mouth, realizing she'd just been idly breaking off little pieces and dropping them into the basin.

"I do eat! I just have to drink as well." He raised his mug in a mock toast.

"That's what keeps you alive, huh?" Buffy murmured, more to herself than to him.

"Uh... yeah. Undead, anyway. You feelin' okay, Slayer?" Spike stepped closer to her with a concerned expression, brows drown together, head tilting.

"You said- you said human healed you faster. You said human made you stronger." She recalled recent conversations.

"Uh-huh." Spike looked at her worriedly. "You know all this, you've always known all-Buffy, what the hell are you doin'?" Spike grabbed her wrist as she suddenly yanked out a kitchen drawer.

"You're the pin. You're the piece holding everything together, and you have to be really, really strong. Or everyone gets sucked into avenging angel warrior girl territory if the Slayer side goes supernova." She shook off his hand and removed a small, sharp knife from the drawer. "You have to be strong as you can be." T_here's more. Riley's there. The entire army base is there. Spike can't fight them. He might as well have a "Kill me first" sign on his back, he's probably the number one target after Adam for every guy in the Initiative, maybe even more than Adam for Riley in particular. This could be a suicide mission. I need him. I need him to survive this. I can't lose one more piece of my heart, and he's holding pretty much whatever's left..._

"Luv, I- well, bloody hell, yeah, I'll take you up on it, but you gotta be strong, too. Now isn't the time to be playin' noble selfless hero. Save it for the dawn's early light, yeah, Pet?"

"I can't lose you." Buffy whispered, eyes fixed on the blade. "I bleed every night, and I don't even feel it. I almost never miss it. I heal in a day, every day. I'm stronger than you. Strongest of all the people in this universe, except for one tiny little weak spot." She glared up at him, hand latching onto her chest. "They built me wrong. They made a Slayer who still had a heart." She whispered viciously. "And it's already so badly broken, Spike... it can't take one more hit."

Spike gaped, taken aback by her sudden fury. "Buffy, Luv-"

"Not too much. But mine's the best, isn't that right, Spike? You won't need more than a couple sips." Her eyes glinted challengingly.

"You don't wanna do this." His hand closed over hers firmly. "An' if you do this 'cause you think you have to- well, we're back in that bedroom, back in that house, lettin' me in you 'cause you didn't have any other option." He warned. "You wanna share your blood with me? You wanna feed my habit, Slayer?" His own eyes burned hers.

"No." She whispered hoarsely. He let go of over her wrist and in a flash she seized the knife and held it to her arm. "Maybe I wanna feed my own. Maybe I want to be loved bad enough to do something really stupid."

"So do it another day. Do it today, and you forced it." His fingers were under the blade before she could slice. "I thought we were tired of other people forcing us around? We both got some sort of 'fate', and we told it to screw off." Spike shook her hard enough to get a warning zap and make the knife fall to the ground.

Buffy seemed to wake up as the silver blade gleamed in the moonlight. "I- I don't want you to feed. It's wrong if it's human. But I'd do it to save your life. You already saved mine."

"But I'm not in life-threatenin' danger yet."

"I know. Not your life. Not anyone's maybe, just..." Her face crumpled, "just it was going to be okay. I thought. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so much anymore, if we were around. Together."

"I didn't ask to go, Luv. So I'm not goin'." Spike sighed into her hair, finding that oddly familiar, rich aroma again.

"Promise?" She sniffled.

"I do promise." He said, even though he knew it was a lie. _You can't guarantee your survival, anymore than she could guarantee hers._ "Don't cry. I hate to see you sad, wrong as that is for me to admit."

"I thought right and wrong died for us." She whispered into his neck, holding him close.

"Then maybe sometime you'll let me feed my addiction. I'll feed yours." Spike offered and bit softly on her shoulder, hugging her tight, stroking her back, feeling the rush of heat the lower he got. Slayer was running warm. He inhaled again, feeling his fangs itch to pierce through.

"I don't know if I can do that. If it's not a life or death or pre-battle thing." Buffy admitted.

Spike's demon grumbled, but the inner man won out, as he so often had lately. Never pressure this girl. Not when it was private and emotional. Bug her to buy you some good booze, yeah, sure, but pressure her to willingly feed you- no. Damn good way to get your heart handed back to you- maybe with a nice piece of wood through it. But he was a persistent bastard...

"Just so you know- I wouldn't do that to hurt you. The- uh- bite. Not enough to make you weak." He said uncomfortably. "In which case, maybe it's still wrong, yeah- but more of a- a- pleasure thing." _God damn minx, with those eyes and that lip, and just enough shape to make all the lust brim over- she made him stumble over words. Even William, the nancy little scribbler, hadn't fumbled this much._

"Pleasure, huh?" She arched her smooth brows.

Well- _my_ pleasure." He smirked. "Although I bet I can make it hurt so good." His smirk turned into that deep, dark ghost of smile on pale features that undid her. His lips parted and a tongue slowly snaked out, across her lips, holding her in a kiss, and then biting softly, scraping, making her go weak. Making her juices flow. He inhaled and shuddered, so close, he could smell it, taste it.

"No..." Buffy squirmed uncomfortably. Right and wrong were dead, but this- being his wine of choice- that was wrong. Soooo soooo wrong that it actually penetrated the haze of feeling she had for him. But the odd thing was, she found she wanted to give in. Just to please him, just because she believed him, that it wouldn't hurt- well, it wouldn't hurt _much_. She liked that about him. The chance to feel something, something so good, everything with him was so good. _So bad, so good, so Spike. So them. But still... no._

"What about your human side?" Buffy panted, as Spike suddenly was hoisting her up, pushing her rear onto the counter's edge, kisses turning into mouthing, chewing embraces all over her throat- starting to work down between her breasts. "Don't you- ohhh, right there- don't you want to try to feel human sometimes, more human? Like in the shower?" She rolled her neck into his mouth.

"What? You think William wouldn't have drank your sweet, red honey?" Spike laughed softly against her, pulling up, eyes half lidded and smokey. "William would have cut his heart out and handed it to you. He was scrawny little poet, but he died for the lack of love. Don't you think he would have died _for_ love? Would've shared your body, your bed, your blood... he just wouldn't have been able to smell it, taste it, revel in it." Spike's sweet passionate phrases turned hard and explosive when she moaned softly against his forehead as it rested against her. "Slayer!" He snarled and bit down hard on her shoulder, with his blunt teeth and no desire to hurt her.

"Upstairs, upstairs, upstairs!" She squeaked frantically, legs locked around his waist.

"Thank God." Spike smashed their mouths together and trundled her up in his arms, storming upstairs, kissing, finding his way in the dark, crashing through her door and down onto her bed.

"This doesn't mean I'm your snack. Unless you want it for world or Spike saving purposes." Buffy warned, panting under him, tearing open his belt for the third time in a day.

"No... oddly enough, think I want you to want me to have you. Slipping in you...fangs and fingers and cock all together. Making your juices flow from every soft little opening."

"No erotic-y talk." Buffy shook her head weakly.

"Why? Make you want it?" He teased.

"No. Maybe. Mostly no, but sorta yes." She told him with her recently given honesty.

"Maybe sometime." Spike nudged her along.

"Maybe." She shook her head all the same."Not ready."

"Not rushing." He pulled her shirt up and she kicked her shoes off behind him.

"Not rushing_ that,_ but as for anything else- time is of the mega essence." She startled him when she pushed him back up and tugged him forward as she sprawled. With a feline smile she jerked his hips up to her mouth and swallowed down his recently released ivory length.

"Oh fuck. Ooooh, fuckfuckfuck." Instantly engulfed in heat and wet and grasping sucking, stroking tongue and cheeks and scraping teeth.

"That's the plan." She pulled her mouth off to smile her sweet innocent smile at him, completely incongruous and such a head trip as his slick member was at the edge of that smile.

"Buffy, what're you doin' to me, Luv?" He laughed and sagged towards her.

"Sucking you." She fluttered her lashes and moved back to his tip.

"I noticed _that_ bit." He chuckled and moved his hand down to the flat of her stomach, leaning to caress her panty covered mound.

"Just because it's serious and all deep and dark and tangled up-" Buffy arched her spine to offer herself up a little more, "doesn't mean it shouldn't be good. It's going to be amazing."

"It's always amazin'."

"You can still have a good time, even if we don't do everything you ask for." She looked at him seriously. "'Cause I want to be a good lover, give before they ask." _And give what they need. He does need blood. He's a vampire. No. Not my blood, though. Not just for pleasure, only for emergencies. But it would give him pleasure, and he always gives me what I need, what I want... Damn it, how is he coming out better and better all the time in my head?_

"I wasn't askin', you offered!" Spike reminded her, pushing firmly on her plump, sex-swollen lips.

"I know, but- but I mean, maybe that was dumb. To offer in one circumstance and not the other. Maybe I'm supposed to be sorry." She said hesitantly.

"No, you little tease. I like a bit of back and forth. I like a bit of play. You an' me- we have fun, Pet. An' we make it good. Make it real." He moved over top of her suddenly, shucking off his boots as well. "Deep dark chocolate an' bright shiny vanilla. You an' me, we're dark and light, like our bloody elemental witch powers or whatever the hell Red's bird says we've got."

"Willow says we're perfectly matched." Buffy whispered, eyes luminous in the dark.

"Funny, that." Spike eased in beside her, moving slowly, prowling, watching her arch and writhe. He might be the one on the hunt, but she was the one who was the predator, all those graceful lines and big, ensnaring eyes. "Then I guess we'll both get whatever we want. Eventually."

"What do you want?" Buffy lead shamelessly, moving her head just out of reach of his lips.

"You. All of you, inside an' out. Same things I always wanted, only a bit less savage in the way I want 'em." He chuckled, taming her mouth with his own in a stolen kiss.

"With you, I like that there's a little savage." Buffy gripped his forearms hard with slayer strength, and he grunted softly as he moved down, leaving biting, nipping kisses.

"See, that's all it'll be, if we ever play my way. Just a little savage."

She moaned, so sweetly and uncertainly, and it made him pause. "But that isn't tonight, Luv. I just can't help myself. Wanting to devour every inch of you."

"Same." She smiled down at him from where he hovered between her breasts and navel. "Spike." She smiled his name.

"My girl."

And there was a lot said in those words. The world went back to spinning out of control in a dark, lusty haze of people who have only a few hours before going off to an impossible mission. People who get one more try and they need to sleep to rest the body, and need to make love to rest the soul, or whatever passes for a soul.

The rhythm slowed down, long tangling moments of kissing and foreplay and whispers occurring, but Spike's blood lust didn't abate, and he didn't know why at first. Not until her juices really began to flow.

"That thing you said might happen in a couple days, Pet?" Spike muttered between kisses.

"Uh-huh." Buffy was lost in him and replied absently.

"It's happenin' now." Spike pushed her from her side to her back.

"What?" Buffy gasped and automatically began to close her legs.

"No. No, no. No part of you I wouldn't touch. An' you may get your wish. I get your blood- if you willing give it to me. Feed my naughty little habit."

"But- but it's too early!" She protested, blushing. "And- ick."

"Magic. Messes that sort of thing up sometimes." Spike shrugged. "Or stress. God knows you don't have any of_ that_." He muttered sarcastically. "As for ick," he licked his lips seductively, "I very much doubt that. Still, if it's no- I won't push it."_ This time. Drinking her juice that is. I'm gonna convince the hell out of her if she gets squeamish about shaggin' though._

"But I need you, I want to." Buffy let out a half-whiny plea. _No part I wouldn't touch. No part he wouldn't touch. It's a part. This is all a part of me, why am I freaking? This night is too short to waste and I need him..._"I need you." She murmured. _I never wanted to need anyone again. But only 'cause I didn't want to be the needy one. We're both the needy ones. Never admit it to anyone else, but we so need each other._

"And you get me." Spike rubbed their brows together, peering into her eyes. "I need you. Want you. Want to feel you and taste you, every inch."

"I get that." Buffy cleared her thought. "It's just I've never-"

He silenced her. "I've never either. Gotta have some first times in life, or you'd never do anything different."

She nodded, surging cautiously under him, tangling her fingers in his platinum locks, kissing him longingly and yet holding back.

Tentative, Spike appraised silently, with what thoughts he could make out over the pounding of her heart driving him insane. Wide eyes fluttering shut and opening again, watching him anxiously. It made his chest catch, where the air use to flow. Dru, with all her waif-like wonder, could never have looked truly innocent, truly young like this girl. 'Cause of what Angelus did to her, to something so innocent, tortured it and tore it until there was a broken mind in a fragile shell. Took every single one of Dru's innocences, and took Buffy's too. That first time, that first love, that first broken heart...

But Angelus didn't know this one, didn't recognize a fighter because he'd never seen anything like her, didn't watch the world with a writer's eyes, looking at the details.

_No, I see the real woman. You could take and take and take from this girl and she'd still have something leftover to give. Maybe that's what being good does to a person._

"You're not breathing. I mean- I know you don't but breathe- but you're not moving around like usual. Are you okay?" Buffy's hands caressed his shoulders slowly, lightly.

"No." Bloody heart on his sleeve, making the words choke into his throat, but he couldn't push 'em down, couldn't deny 'em. " 'Bout this thing we're doing." He rasped. "Couldn't I be your first, Luv? Couldn't you be mine? You were my first human, first warmth an' life, an'... I know I'll never be your first man, or first vamp, anything, but couldn't you jus' think of this as-" He groped for words, and ended up just staring down on her.

Buffy's already wide eyes expanded further. _He always surprises me. He always gave more than anyone could imagine, the whole heart, never worried about himself, his hurts and scars in here. He knows when I'm scared for stupid reasons, and he turns them into big beautiful moments in life. Like the first time, the first time that was something so ugly and forced, he made it a choice for me. Then every time after- he was never bad to me. He's good. He's good to me and he can be a good man, if that mattered. But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that we can give each other that feeling again. That there's something left inside, that they didn't take everything away when they left us. We can't go back, can't rewind, but we can still keep experiencing new firsts. We can start over._

Spike finally shook himself out of the mesmer created by those sparkling, innocently knowing orbs."Maybe I'm not makin' any sense. Always fail when I need to really explain some matter of the heart. If I can- "

Her kiss cut off his explanation. "Spike, shhh. Come here, Baby."

"You understand me?" He hoped against hope, 'cause his words had always failed him in a clinch, hadn't made Cecily accept him, hadn't convinced his mother how to fight off the demon, hadn't convinced Dru to stay with him. "You understand what I meant?"

"As much as anyone can,with your strange made-up British words." She teased. Then sobered. "You were my first. At so many things." She let go of the back of his head. "You can have any firsts I have left, I guess. I'm not giving myself to anyone else." Her voice dropped into a reedy whisper that only his super hearing could detect.

Spike's eyes prickled in contrast with the triumphant demon roaring inside, waiting to be set free on a feast of slayer blood. Sharing herself with him, and him only. That was something Drusilla had failed spectacularly at, no excuses this time, just naked truth. He'd been hers and only hers and she'd been his- as long as her mind held.

"Not gonna share myself, either. Except with you."

"I knew that. I liked that about you. Right away. Mr. Faithful." Buffy's smile emerged for the first time in many emotionally charged moments.

"You really don't mind?" He kissed her smile, then her chin, working in a steady straight trail south.

"I don't think I do..." She gasped and felt her knees slide over his shoulders in a familiar line they'd so often taken lately.

"I'd never hurt you. Can't. I don't love you like that." Spike looked up at her, hands resting with hers low on her abdomen. "Said it was love if it hurt."

"It is."

"Yeah, well, we have a different kinda love." Spike nipped her nub and made her dig into his knuckles. "We might make it sting a little, ache a bit- but this love isn't gonna hurt. Not bad enough to break us."

"It's a different kind of love." Buffy echoed their words from earlier.

"But it's still love." He rejoined.

"I love you." She murmured and sank back.

"I love you. Every. Single. Inch." His tongue moved down lower, lower, and lower with each word, until he found the sweet nectar he was looking for.

Buffy closed her eyes and waited for something strange to happen, so intimate an act, him feeding from her, not in the traditional way, but still...weird and taboo. But nothing did. It was the deep, explosive pleasure as it had always been- only now there was another layer. Under her gasps and his encouraging moans, Spike was purring.

"Spiiiike." A drawn out sigh.

"You taste amazing. God, Luv, I'm gonna be able to punch out Adam myself, no help required." Spike spoke against her spread thighs. "You make me so strong, Buffy."

"You make me strong, too." She arched up and back, letting her hips come off the bed and more into his pale mouth. And she was honest. Spike's artful tongue transcended mere pleasuring and had gone right to worshipping. With Spike she had never felt like something breakable and frail, like she had with Angel. She hadn't felt freakishly powerful like she had with Riley. No, with Spike, she felt like herself. Maybe better than herself. She was Slayer strong and Buffy beautiful. Only with him.

"Spike." Another little happy sigh.

"My girl. My amazin' girl."

She shut her mind down, and he turned his instincts on. No right, nor wrong, no good, no bad. Only sheer pleasure, and love and contentment.

"Gimme all of you, Baby." Spike purred, fingers digging into her split peach, opening it, holding the leaking slit on his tongue.

"I am. I am, I am, I am." Buffy babbled and felt the deep cramping pleasure of orgasm beginning.

Spike would have thought it would be more rough. Down and dirty. The demon seemed to have been rooting for that. But it didn't happen. His mouth was burningly insistent, even though the traces of blood were faint and not quite flowing, just starting to seep out. But his body relaxed more and more. Trust. Intimacy. Nothing left between them. Nothing, not even demon and slayer. The slayer was feeding the vampire her sweet woman's blood. Willingly, out of love. He nuzzled in and kissed her opened bud once more before pulling off and looking at her, licking his lips clean.

"I'll go wash up. Be right-" But he was snagged.

"I'll come, too." She informed him hastily.

"I got you nice an' clean." Spike soothed.

"I wanna be next to you."

They stared at each other.

_Oh no. I've got teenage crush, puppy love phrases randomly shooting out of my mouth._

_Wants to be with me. I get that. Suppose that's how it'd feel, you do somethin' so close an' then you'd want to stay close._

"Weird, huh?" Buffy shrugged as the silence lingered for a second.

"Nah." Spike shrugged back. "Wanna be next to you, too." He smiled down on her as she put her arm around his waist and they walked off.

* * *

><p>In moments they were back in bed, both beyond ready at this point. Something comforting had been given, but something primal had been awakened.<p>

"It wasn't such a big deal, was it, Pet?" Spike chuckled as she slid wantonly against him, rolling him on his back, perching above him.

"Hey!"

"Special, yes, incredible, and intimate, and the first time we've ever-" Spike swallowed. "Jus' meant for once I was glad you didn't have reason to be afraid of this big bad."

"I've never been afraid of you, Mr. Badass. Annoyed as hell, yeah..." Buffy leaned down and bit his neck with a playful love bite, slowly sinking down on him, completely disregarding any mess they might make. _Good sex is messy sex,_ Spike's voice whispered in her head.

"Glad I was at least irritatin'." Spike beamed cockily up at her, shuddering once when he was sheathed in a slick canal that was hotter than he'd ever felt it.

"Tonight, you were perfect. And even though that was totally a Spike-y thing to do, I think William was very involved." Buffy ran her hands lovingly down his chest and back, settling on his shoulders. "I thought that'd make you go crazy. And bumpy in the forehead."

"Me, too." Spike confessed. He squinted up at her. "You were gonna let me do that anyway?"

Buffy looked away from his eyes, down at the perfectly, ivory chest under her honeyed hands. "The lines blur. Feeding and sex..."

"I wasn't feeding." Spike suddenly decided. He spoke firmly and pulled her chin forward to make their eyes meet again. "That's why the fangs stayed away. I was getting something I needed, yeah, but I was only-" he swallowed down a sigh at how truly depraved he'd become in this girl's company. "I was only lovin' you. Every part."

"You're so good to me. Bad man." She whispered with a hint of laughter in her tone.

"Oh well- prepare for me to be soddin' unbelievable to you." Spike pulled her cheeks against his hips plunged up and in, making her gasp sharply. "I'm high on you. And Slayer blood- aphrodisiac."

"That's so sick." Buffy scolded, head lolling back.

"But workin' in your favor jus' now, isn't it?" Spike chuckled sinisterly, and flipped their positions so she was on her back and he scooted to his knees, kneeling as he was all the way inside her. "Never felt me tanked up on_ this_ juice." He grunted and began hammering away inside her.

"Oh... my... God." Buffy finally managed to speak after several moments of blinding enjoyment caused by rampant thrusting. For once- someone felt just as strong as her. And he wasn't using it to hurt. "OhmyGod!" This last a short sharp cry as the first orgasm struck her. "Definitely in my favor..."

"And it happens once a month." Spike hinted, laughing just to see her flushed and flustered. "No. Not pushin'- much. Init nice, though?" He leaned over her, cradling her head in one palm to bring her ear to his lips. "To share somethin', be alone, an' know this is jus' for you an' me? We get a lot taken out of us, away from us. We got a lot stolen. But this is jus' for you an' me. No one else but us."

"That was all you ever wanted, wasn't it?" Buffy stroked his hair gently. "Love, with just one person, that whole happily ever after, one true love?"

"Yeah... Seem to have mucked it up. But- I like what I got left." He shifted again, lying on her, feeling her heat soaking him from head to toes, breathing for him, beating for him, feeling it through his own chest.

"If we ever- if I ever met you again... if we could ever get that chance to be firsts over..." Buffy murmured more to herself than him. _What would we have done? Would I have picked him over Angel? True love... this isn't true love. Although- it's honest love. What's better, what's true or what's honest? Is there a difference? And what the heck would you pick- knowing who Spike is- or what Angel'd turn out to be?_

Spike's voice wasn't hard, wasn't cold, but it was quietly fierce. "Don't lie to me, please, Pet. I know you wouldn't have been for someone like me. You're not s'posed to be for someone like me now."

Buffy rocked with him for several minutes before whispering again. "I wasn't lying. I was just thinking. Facing death in the morning usually kinda makes me think big thoughts. And binge with Willow. But- she and I have someone now, and a new kind of binge. Someone new. All kinds of firsts happening in Sunnydale." Buffy laughed with a hint of bitterness in her voice. "Which leads right back to the big, deep thinking. If you'd have met me- would you have been mine? Back then? No- not as Spike. As William. The human side who's still pretty much an equal partner in running the show."

Spike blustered furiously. "He isn't, that poofy little-"

"Ah ah ah- you have a tattle tale aura. So-" Buffy clasped him tightly to her, working her milking muscles on him, feeling him pulsing back harder than he usually did, high on her blood. "If you got to do first over again...?"

Spike thought back to his first time- rutting like animals, changing from demon to man and back, laughing wildly, drinking blood from Dru as she sipped him, feeling alive for the first time ever, not even fully aware it was in death. The lackluster bravery was gone, replaced with reckless courage borne out of knowing you're already dead. But it was more than that for him, that first time. He'd gone to death with a broken heart and resurrected in a waking dream, powerful and in the arms of his dark goddess, a creature straight out of fairytales and nightmares. He was sure that he was finally safe, home, able to keep the girl, able to win her. Somehow his words had called to her, she'd seen all that love going to waste, and she'd chosen him, tracked him down in that alley and made him her own.

And now he knew how the story ended. It all broke. After a hundred some years, it'd broken and been ruined. Heart was in tatters again and there was no Dru to save him. Worse-he'd never know for sure if Dru realized what their life together meant to him. She couldn't have, or she wouldn't have thrown it away. Left him. Left him for other men, other species, or just plain left...

"You don't have to answer. I know there's not supposed to be any pain, any strings attached that we don't like." Buffy cradled his head with her own as it sank down on her neck. "Spike?"

"Thinkin'." He mumbled, panting slightly, from exertion and pent up emotion.

_What would I pick? All the good times, the blood, the violence, the mayhem, and the world bein' my footstool? Or would I rather pick this tiny little powerhouse underneath me now? Wonderin' if Dru loved me, or knowin' Buffy does? Knowing Buffy chose something hard, painful, messy, and forbidden? It was love though. Love she'd chosen._

They'd been forced together at first, like Dru had been tortured and turned and tortured again, 'til she was hungry for love of her own, and he'd been too broken hearted to know what he was doing. Unlike he an' Dru though, he an' Buffy got a second chance, in light of day, and they'd picked.

_An bloody hell, kept on pickin'. Hating, fighting, laughing, sniping, falling in love reluctantly, but with nothing forcing us together, in fact everything more likely to force us apart._

Spike's head raised with a low, throaty snarl. The true pain, the ecstasy, so good it burned, so good it hurt... Of course William loved her, would have picked her in a heartbeat. The little sot always wanted the eternal love. It didn't have to be forever in years- it had to be forever in intent. _This one won't leave. An' neither will I._

"I'd have picked you in a heartbeat." Spike whispered, and for a second he seemed to feel his own beating with hers. "But in truth, I wouldn't have won you. I was just a university boy, a pretty boy, a scrawny, nearsighted one at that."

Buffy shook her head, heart hammering against her ribs. _He'd have picked me. And I know- I know Angel loved the slayer side- he hated boring women. But that's all I might have been. Just a girl. That was all I wanted to be. Wow. I just realized- he loved my job. My fighting the good fight. He loved helping me fight loved the Slayer. No wonder he couldn't stay with me... oh my God. He only loved half of me. What if Spike-?_

"Spike, maybe I wouldn't have been anything but a skinny, possibly pretty girl- probably one who couldn't afford to have any education, even if women were allowed to go. I wouldn't have been special. Okay?"

"Well, that's in my favor, Luv. We might have had a chance..." _Quiet little man. Sweet young girl. Might have had all those things I dreamed about and - no._ "I'd never have that chance now...You're a slayer, an' you were always gonna be one, no matter when you lived. You're the most powerful woman in the world now, an' you would've been even then." He shrugged against her shoulders.

Buffy was shaking her head again.

"Oh, now what, Slayer?" He groaned. Sometimes- just in the heat of passion-he forgot how bloody stubborn she was.

"So I would've been who I am- dang, Spike, that sounds weird. But you get the idea. If I would always be some kind of super girl, you'd always be super guy, and you're one of the few who's ever defeated a slayer. Normal or super-ed up-" She grinned, "we might still have a chance..."

"So if God shouted 'do over'? What then?"

"He doesn't, though. And even if he did- we wouldn't have appreciated it, would we? We'd never know how bad it hurts when someone breaks your heart, how good it feels when someone makes the pain stop." Buffy whispered against his neck.

Spike took her hands and laced them with his own for a second before he slid down her slick with sweat skin, picking up her up, rolling her with him, side to side once again. "If we ever get a fairytale, Luv, one with the happy ending- I wouldn't have anyone but you."

"Same." She smiled and rolled once more, and sank down on him all the way. For a second, muscles spasmed with the heat, and the ache, and the tightness of inner walls as they were pushed apart for the first time in this particular situation. She knew what Spike felt yesterday. A first. A first for them. It did make you feel alive. Even better- it made you feel unbroken. So broken apart, so whole together. "I love you." She whispered. "My William. My Sweet Spike."

Too ragged inside to speak, he kissed her fervently and nodded. "Always be my first. First time it was for real." He finally breathed out against her ear.

"First time it was real." Buffy mused. She'd had real love before. But was all of it real? The life around it? No. Abnormal was a given, and reality could bend to fit it. They'd done that. With fights, and tears, and actual talking. Actual life stuff, running to the store, burgers and movies, listening to music, tickling each other, making jokes, laughing, crying, fighting, loving.

"Really do love you." She whispered, clutching at him as her back bowed with pleasure.

He arched, and exploded with her, both shuddering with release. "Really do."


	20. Chapter 20

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's note: I know- it's short and not terribly deep, but I figured my readers were probably hungry. I'm trying to finish this piece before working on any of the others and it strains the muse, so... I did my best, hope you enjoy._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and HachimansKitsune ._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XX

Buffy woke up as if someone had jerked her from her pillow. She immediately reached for a weapon and instead smacked her hand into the sinewy expanse of spine that was curled in front of her. Realizing where she was, she sighed, and snuggled back down- only to jerk up a split second later. "Spike- we have to-" Buffy bit her lip. Spike lay there so peaceful and still- well, duh. He was dead. No breathing, no twitching unless he wanted to. She nudged his leg lightly with her calf and he smiled in his slumber.

_I'll let him have another couple minutes. Just a couple... before we start the evil-killing Scoobie-mobile a-rolling..._

Silently, she slid out of the bed, and hurried to the bathroom, grabbing some clothes on the way, sturdy and stain resistant. Slayer-wear. She took a lightening shower and dressed in her mother's room, wanting a couple minutes privacy to attend to some 'girl things'. Then some other things...

_Dear Mom,_

_Just stopped by while you were out this weekend. We have one of those "big nasty" things to deal with today. Maybe we'll be done by the time you get home. Or- you know- not. But don't worry. I'll call you when we're finished._

_Everyone's going in with me- except Anya. If I don't check in, you can call her. But everything's going to be fine. See you soon._

_Lots of love,_

_Buffy_

Buffy's hand paused over her mother's pillow, where she was going to leave the note. In the other room she heard a faint mumbling. Spike was waking up. A whole war of emotions raged inside her, and she slapped the note down on the quilted bedspread, marching off.

Spike let out a hoarse shout as a stake slammed blunt side up against his throat. "Slayer! What the hell are you-"

"Would you ever hurt my mother?" Buffy looked down on him with burning eyes, straddling his reclining form.

Spike gaped for a second, mind reeling. He'd gone to sleep after exploding deep inside her lightly bleeding tunnel, holding her, feeling them both trembling with emotion and the rawness of their act. Sharing blood. Sharing love. And now- stakes at the throat before first light. He _did_ like excitement...

"Would you?" Buffy nudged the stake in harder.

Well, honestly..."Of course I would!" Spike shoved her off, only to find himself pinned down in a vicious grip. "If I weren't chipped! I am though!"

"Promise me. Promise me you'll never hurt her- even if you're unchipped and even if you're massacring everyone in sight, even me- you don't lay a finger on her!"

"What in God's name are you goin' on about?" Spike managed to sit up.

"In case you come back and I don't. You could- check on her." Buffy looked at him sideways.

Spike let go of her wrist. "I'm not gonna kill you. I might kick your lovely little ass a few times, as payback, but no killin'. I love you, you twit."

"But we always said-"

"Oh, sod that, I say a lot of things. I'm not gonna kill you an' you're not gonna die today unless I go too. All joined up an' that. But if-" He heaved a deep sigh, "if the situation occurs where I gotta make nice with your mum- I'll do it. I won't hurt her."

"Promise." Buffy ordered, stake making a resurgence against his milky skin.

"I promise!" He cried.

"Good." Buffy tucked the stake away. "You always keep your promises. At least to me. Part of the deal. Part of what we like about each other."

"True." Spike got up and stretched, the canvas of his skin pulling tight over sharp bones and ridged muscles. Buffy closed her eyes in pointed self-denial. "Got time for one more?" Spike hinted.

"Oh... no. No, we have to go, we're going to be late as it is." She stepped away with a firm note in her voice, belying the hunger in her gaze. "Use your vampy speed and get dressed. I'll throw your blood in the microwave and grab a granola bar." The petite blonde practically ran from the room.

"You okay?" Spike called after her, trying to sound nonchalant. Maybe in the cold-well- dark of day, it was so bloody early- she had second thoughts about all that intimacy of a few hours ago.

"I'm very okay!" Buffy whirled to face him, determined face softening slightly. "We just have to go to the dorms and get my good weapons. I don't want to be late." She trotted the few steps back to him, and kissed him. "Sorry to attack you with Mr. Pointy." She murmured, lightly nibbling his adam's apple.

"You're never dull. Like that about you." Spike conceded with an amused snort. "An' I can give you a taste of m' own 'Mr. Pointy', if you'd like."

Buffy resolutely ignored the clenching of her inner muscles. "Maybe after?"

"Definitely after." He assured. With a nod, she left his side, and sped away. Spike hurriedly dressed.

Buffy paused before going down the stairs, ducking back into her mom's room to add another piece to her note.

Buffy scribbled a hasty postscript, biting her lip nervously as the words appeared in front of her disbelieving eyes.

_One more thing- Spike's helping us. He's okay. He's not good, but he'd never hurt you. If he comes here- you can trust him- not with your purse or anything, but with your life. Which is good._

_One more one more thing- sorry, we used all the milk._

_Love you._

With a deep sigh, Buffy dropped the pen and paper. She ran downstairs, not looking back at the bedroom and trying not to think about what might happen that day to prevent her from ever seeing it, or the owner of it, again.

Spike was already down there, just opening blood bags. "Vampy speed." He winked at her.

"Yeah, you're hot stuff alright." She muttered sarcastically.

"More like room temperature." He snatched a kiss as she passed. "C'mon. Eat somethin'. Gotta go do the heroic thing." He rolled his eyes. "What a buggered up place this is- me, with the heroes...bloody hell."

"I'll eat on the way." Buffy snagged a granola bar from the cupboard. "We need to get to the dorms. Put that in a thermos, and let's go." Buffy didn't look at him, locked in some kind of inner trance, pre-battle mind set, nothing but determination and worry.

Wordlessly, Spike nodded and took the thermos from the shelf she pointed to. She waited impatiently by the door, and in a moment he joined her. They rode to the dorm in the pre-dawn hours, the sky turning from midnight shades to that blue purple hue.

"Weapons." Buffy mumbled as they drove. "Axe... stakes... that dagger with the swooshy blade..."

"You wonderin' what's gonna undo the bastard?" Spike interrupted her mutterings.

"Huh? Oh. Yeah." Buffy looked over at him for the first time in minutes. He was her lover. He'd been her enemy. But probably the best thing he'd been to her in the past weeks was a friend who she could really talk to. She didn't have to have her "big, brave Slayer" face on in front of him. "This might suck. This might be whole new levels of suckage."

"We can take him." Spike bolstered her morale.

"Okay- with what? Even if we're ridiculously strong, what the hell do I pull on him and where do I pull it?"

"I'm thinkin' bare hands oughta do it. 'Specially if my strength adds to yours." Spike reached over and squeezed her hands. "You make me strong. I'll make you strong."

An equal. A real equal, someone to share almost everything with, even strength, battles, and stupid jokes and late night heart gave an extra happy throb, but then went back to the seriousness confronting them. "Strong is great, but where do I use that strength?"

"Head, I guess." Spike frowned. "Even if he's got a back up one, it's gotta slow him down if you yank it off."

"I'll try. Crap. He's way taller than me, you know?"

Spike laughed and jerked the car to a halt in a spot outside Buffy's hall. "You are a nice, bite-sized piece, that's for sure, Ow! Buffy, easy." Spike fended off her jabbing elbow. "Don't worry."

"Don't worry?" She hissed incredulously, feeling a sudden wave of anger assaulting her. That was an Angel thing to say. A sweet, comforting, totally pointless, totally meaningless thing to say. Thoughts of a totally wrong, but pretty perfectly equal partner puffed into oblivion as old lovers and their past belittlements assaulted her."Don't you ever talk down to me like I'm some stupid teenager who can't-"

"Shut your mouth." Spike cut her off with a glare from his ice blue eyes. "I told you not to worry because I meant you don't need to worry. I don't know how you do it, whether it's 'cause God looks after the good guys, or 'cause you got all your little mates pitchin' in, or 'cause you're so damn resourceful. But no one ever took you down and made you stay down. Not the Master. Not Angelus. Not even me. An' no one's badder than me." Spike's tone suddenly turned saucy.

Buffy smiled in spite of herself. "Big ego is an understatement on you." She leaned her head briefly on his shoulder. "Sorry, I freaked. You don't talk down to me. Not when it matters."

"No, I don't. An' I wasn't now. You always catch a break, Luv. All you have to do is step into the field of play, an' you always win."

Buffy kissed him and opened her car door. "Well, then. I better go get my bat and glove."

The two figures walked through the shadows, up the stairs of the dormitory with their arms around each other.

* * *

><p>Willow's arm dropped from Tara's waist with a little strangled sound. "Was that-"<p>

"Shh!" Tara looked around and bit her lip. "They just- um. Um."

"Yeah. A lot of um." Willow looked around as well, spotting Spike's car. "They spent last night together. I guess."

"Well, they didn't spend it in the d-dorm." Tara reclaimed Willow's hand. "They must've been out. Looking for something for this spell or maybe to help Riley."

"Yeah." Willow didn't like keeping things from Tara. Secrets never worked well in relationships, in any kind of relationship. But it was Buffy's secret to tell. About all the time she and Spike were alone together. In the dorm. Over night. Sleeping curled up together on the bed. And- and maybe, like with some friendships, the comforting had gotten into the physical range. When Tara held her in her arms... how soon that turned to making love.

"Willow?"

"Huh, what?" Willow blurted. Buffy would never make love to Spike. Except- she'd already had sex with him, coerced, mystically induced sex, but still. "Once you do something, sometimes it's really easy to do it again." Willow murmured.

Tara worked through that obscurity with that innate empathy and understanding she'd developed so quickly for her sweet Willow. "You think Buffy and Spike...?"

"She's all alone. So is he. They hurt. And it's scary going into lots of big battles. And now Riley is missing, either a hostage or a pawn, or maybe even playing for the bad guys. It has to be terrible to know someone you used to care about is out of your reach. Buffy's had to do it so many times before. That's one thing that never gets easier."

They walked up the stairs in silence. As they reached the door they'd just seen the blonde couple entire through, Tara smiled softly. "I don't think Spike hurt her last night."

"I know he didn't. That's the weird part. If he had wanted to hurt her he'd have done it weeks ago. Chip or not, Spike is all tricky and sneaky. He could've hurt her. If he wanted to."

"Maybe he's lonely. Maybe he hurts enough to play nice."

"Maybe. I don't know. And I'm a little wigged. Spike playing nice is still kind of a new concept."

"You think they're together now? L-like we are?"

"No." Willow shook her head, stubborn mindset wining over lots of tiny pieces of evidence. "I don't think so. Not like that. Not like us. I don't think Buffy will ever love anyone besides Angel. Even if she wanted to, Spike doesn't have a soul. She wouldn't love him. Even if he loved her."

"Spike could love someone?" Tara actually believed that was quite possible, given the immense humanity Spike could command at will.

"You didn't see him before. He's scary when he's in love. Crazy, obsessed, move heaven and hell kinda guy."

"Maybe we better hope he does love Buffy then. In some way. Today we could use a little extra scary." Tara tapped her pocket where the chalk and cards rested.

* * *

><p>"Ooooh, scary. Can I borrow this sometime?" Spike joined Buffy over her assortment of weapons and pointed to a double edged axe.<p>

"No! Giles gave me that for Christmas last year." Buffy pouted and pulled it away from him.

"Where the hell does he shop, the international house of deadly weapons?" Spike quirked his brow in amused admiration.

"I think he gets their catalog." Buffy smiled briefly. "Okay. This is what we have that isn't going to weigh us down too much. Let's get to the lobby." Buffy took a last look around. This was where she and Willow laughed and cried and plotted and did stupid stuff. Best friend stuff. Until the past few weeks. Then it turned into Spike's and her room. Sometimes it felt more like that lately. Room for talking and sharing and earning rounds of applause for their gold-medal sex stylings.

"You'll be back by dark." Spike took her shoulders as he stood behind her and whispered in her ear.

"I know that." Buffy replied reflexively. "Just looking around one more time." Homework assignments on the desk she would finish later- if she wasn't in some big spirit ball. Mr. Gordo peeping out from under the pillow and laundry that needed to be done. Pictures of Xander, Willow, and her. Phone with flashing lightbulb. "Message!" Buffy stepped away and picked up the receiver.

"What, now?" Spike looked at her incredulously.

"Hey, if I die, I'm not going to hear them later, am I?" She snapped.

"You aren't gonna die, you always catch a break, you damnable, annoying little person." Spike stalked to the side and lit up a smoke.

Buffy ignored him and hit the play button. She gasped almost immediately. "Riley!"

"Soldier boy?" Spike scowled and stormed back, closer. "What does he want, the bastard?"

"Shh!" Buffy waved him to silence and hit the speaker button. She instinctively huddled closer to her lover and looked grimly at the phone.

Finn's voice came out, strained and weak. "Hey. I'm guessing you know what's going on with Adam. He's got a lab. I know you were in the caves. They're over the- the lab. His lab."

"He doesn't sound good." Buffy looked pained at the sound of his voice, becoming fainter as it continued.

"The labs are set up for surgery, making lots more Adams. I don't like you right now, I know what you're doing with that vampire. But I know I was kinda crazy. Spike isn't the only one with a behavior modification chip, only his isn't controlled by a big, green evil guy." Riley broke into a soft, bitter laugh that trailed off into prolonged coughing.

"Don't trust him." Spike gripped her arm.

"I don't trust him. Doesn't mean he's lying." Buffy hissed. "_You_ should know that, Evil But Honest Boy."

"Look, I gotta go. The nurse is coming back in a minute. Adam's going into production ASAP. All those demons in the cells are plants."

"He's bright, that one." Spike puffed out a plume of smoke.

"Shush!" Buffy stepped on his toes lightly and tried to hear over him.

"-soldiers and massacre waiting to happen!" More coughing. "You're going in, I know that. Just a tip- he doesn't have a heart or a brain, not one made out of soft tissue. I already got him in the eye, so there's not a lot of weak spots left. He said he had something- power cell, uranium cell- uranium core. He tapped his chest. I think he's more machine than flesh, on the inside. Get the core. And- well- I'm still pissed at you and if I ever see Spike, he's dust. But um- just don't think I would ever hurt humans. I know you're human enough. Hope you win. Buffy, I- I- yeah. Hope you win." The line went dead.

"It could be a trap." Spike looked at the frozen figure before him, her eyes blinking back tears of upset and old memories.

"I know that. There's no time to check this story out. We have to move." Buffy angrily brushed her hand across her eyes, then hit the play button again, listening to the next message.

"Summers? It's Gates. Call me back."

"Summers, it's Forrest Gates. Call me."

"That's one of those commandos isn't it?" Spike pressed closer to her.

"Yeah. He never called me before. He doesn't have my number!"

Spike snorted. "Luv, they have everybody's number. Just push the damn button. Sun's comin' up an' we need to move."

Buffy frowned in puzzlement and nodded. The voice came out harsher than ever.

"It's about Riley. Not that you care, but he's in bad shape. In the hospital." Gates let out a sudden derisive snort over the phone. "I wonder if you put him there. You were with Adam up in the lab, huh? That's what he says. He might be delirious. Fact, I know he is. He still wanted me to call you." There was a sharp click.

"Verified enough for me. They might be bastards, but they don't do too well at lyin'." Spike nodded.

Buffy agreed, a faint smile on her face. "Just caught that break, huh?" She grinned a little more broadly and shouldered her bag. "Let's go kick some core."

"That's my girl." Spike caught her wrist as her hand reached for the doorknob. "We might get busy later, an' sounds like the party's gonna start soon."

Buffy pushed herself closer to him and kissed him softly, quickly. "That's not my goodbye kiss. Don't worry. Nobody's leaving." _Not if I can help it._

* * *

><p>"You'll leave the circle until the strengthening spell is done." Giles told Spike and Buffy. "Then we follow Buffy, find a safe space near to her, where the sacred circle won't be disturbed, do the enjoining spell, and Buffy goes in." Giles polished his glasses, not quite able to look at Buffy and Spike standing side by side without having unbidden images spring to mind. And sounds. Car horns, primarily. "Technically, all of us will go in."<p>

"Be careful. Everyone be really, really careful. Even you." Anya held tightly to Xander and stared at Spike. "Especially you. If my boyfriend comes home in a big ball of spiritual energy, I'm so gonna kick your ass."

"Wouldn't you be kicking his ass too, then?" Spike smirked, lighting another cigarette, his second in ten minutes.

"Put that out!" Willow yipped. "No smoking in the lobby! No smoking anywhere in the dorms, but especially not in the lobby where anyone can see you!" She hissed.

"Then we prob'ly shouldn't be talking about sacred circles and spells here either." Spike took a long, purposely annoying drag.

"Yes, well. We do seem to be the only ones about." Giles looked around the deserted lobby. "Nonetheless, we need to move speedily. I suggest we take the cars as far into the woods as we can, then go on foot." Giles leaned heavily on one of the sofas, easing his injured ankle.

"Your ankle..." Buffy looked concerned.

"The strengthening spell will sort it." Giles smiled with confidence he didn't feel. "Hrrmmm." He coughed once. "We should go."

"Yeah. Burnin' moonlight, here." Spike strode out ahead of them. "Slayer, you wanna ride?"

"Coming." Buffy followed him.

"Ladies, Xander, my car is at your disposal." Giles hobbled off with an encouraging nod at Anya.

Spike and Buffy paused at the edge of the lobby. "They're at it again." Spike grumped, watching Anya and Xander exchange a deep, heartfelt embrace.

Buffy nodded, jaw tightening slightly. Then it relaxed. "Huh. Doesn't hurt anymore."

Spike's scowl turned into that soft boyish smile that made Buffy melt. "You're right." Then he scowled again. "First an' last time I'll ever say _that_."

"Nu-uh!"

"Yes-huh. Oh, bollocks!" He cursed with heat.

"Made you talk like me-ee, made you talk like me-eee!" Buffy bounced once and he cursed some more.

"Shut up!"

"Nu-uh."

"Shut_ up_, Slayer. It'll never happen again. Ever."

"Wanna bet?"

"What are the stakes?"

"Ha ha, Mr. Funny Vampire."

"Oh, for God's sake, d'you wanna ride in the old man's little clown car? 'Cause I'll make you."

Behind them, Tara, Willow, Giles, and Xander watched in awe as they followed the bickering, oddly playful pair.

"Holy shit." Xander breathed.

"For once, I can't think of a more apt description." Giles blinked at his young charge and her sinister companion.

Tara and Willow exchanged a glance and sealed their lips. Giles polished his glasses in his familiar "Perhaps if I can't see it, it isn't really there." ritual. Xander alone seemed inclined to comment.

"Okay, bonding aside, have you ever seen her act like that with anyone? _Anyone?_ Even one of us?"

"Sometimes." Willow said quickly.

"Occasionally." Giles put forth.

"Well, I haven't, and I think it's weird." The quartet piled into Giles' car.

"We live on a hellmouth. Weird is normal." Willow comforted.

"Okay... well _that_ wasn't normal."

Tara's soft, timid voice interjected. "Was it bad?"

Xander mechanically wanted to shout "Yes!" and maybe even "Yes! Duh!" but he checked himself. "Not exactly. I know he's Mr. Helpful right now, but he's still Mr. Pasty Evil underneath. When the helpfulness runs out, I don't want Buffy to get burned 'cause her bonding buddy is back to trying to murder us all."

"Y-you might be surprised." Tara spoke again. "S-sometimes people who have something bad inside learn to let their human sides rule."_ Like Mom. Like me. I don't have a split aura yet. Dad says it won't come out until my next birthday, but- but I won't let it out. I won't let it change it me. For love you can do anything. I don't care what they say about my mother, I never saw demon in her, and if it was there, the human side covered it completely. For love._

"It certainly would be to his benefit." Giles remarked. "Being Buffy's friend is infinitely preferable to being her enemy."

"So true." Xander recalled any of the spats that had divided them over the years and he had a flash, just for a second, of what Spike might see. That when you were around Buffy, the world just seemed more okay, funner, cooler. Of course, Evil Undead wouldn't be seeing that the same way, but he had to see what it was better to have the not-trying-to-kill-you version of Buffy on your side. "He's smart enough to know when there's a good deal, I'll give him that." He conceded grudgingly.

"More than smart." Tara mumbled half to herself. "His aura- he's so much more human than he likes to admit. I never saw anyone who could control their split like that, not even Buffy. During the protection spell, when I asked him to focus on the human side of himself, he was able to all but bury the demon side."

"The older a vampire, the more clever they are at posing and passing in this world- if they so choose." Giles nodded thoughtfully.

Tara shook her head. "No. Not posing. Controlling it. I don't study vampires so I don't know what to tell you about how they act, but I know auras. He's strong enough to do whatever he wants."

"Spike with willpower. What a concept." Xander sighed.

"I'm all with the happy about the willpower!" Willow punched her friend's shoulder.

"You want him to be all best buddy-buddy with Buffy? Whoa, say that ten times fast..."

"I'm not even talking about him hanging out with her. I'm talking about this spell. I'm glad he's got a buttload of willpower-y goodness. I hope his vampire 'ancient power half' is as strong as Buffy's Slayer side. Or at least strong enough to mellow it out." Willow shivered. "Is anybody else just a little freaked to think of Spike being the only thing that keeps us from being cosmically swallowed by some Amazonian Mega-Slayer?"

In the car, four hands shot in the air.

* * *

><p>"Raise your hand if you aren't chipped. Okay... okay, you're going in on the first wave. Let's have you on the left. No, no, the left. Oh for heaven's sake, John, show the Fyarls which side is left. Thank you. Now if you are chipped- wow, there's a lot less of you than I thought." Adam's assistant organized the "troops" for the raid.<p>

"A lot of guys left town. How can we fight back if we're not able to hurt humans?"

"That's why you're second wave. The first wave is gonna do the damage, you follow behind, and do 'clean up'."

"Is eating permitted?" One cadaver demon asked.

"No! Not until Adam has all the parts he needs." The vampire put his pen behind his ear and tucked a clipboard under his arm. "We're in place. You know what to do. Let's move."

* * *

><p>"Move into the clearing." Tara instructed, looking frantically around as they scrambled out of the car.<p>

"I will not. I'll start to smoke, an' not in the pleasant mentholated way." Spike crossed his arms.

"It's not daylight yet." Buffy prodded him along.

"I can smell it comin', it'll be light in a minute or two!" Spike insisted.

"We need a place to make the circle. Closer to the caves is more dangerous. At least if we do the strengthening spell, we're safer." Willow hissed, walking after Tara.

"Spike and Buffy aren't involved in that- why don't you two go ahead and scout out the cave." Giles rummaged in the trunk, getting out the precious gourd and a few carefully chosen weapons.

"Did you bring those harness things?" Buffy asked, nodding.

"Rappelling equipment, two harnesses." Giles passed them to her. "Good luck. Be careful. Don't engage him if you see him, unless there's no other option." He told her severely.

"I won't if he won't." Buffy cast a lingering look at her friends as they headed away from her. "You be careful, too."

"We'll be in shortly." Giles briefly stroked her cheek and then limped away.

* * *

><p>"Well...he got out of the lift." Spike remarked dryly, pointing to a gaping hole punched through the panel that made the concealed door of the shaft.<p>

"I guess it's a good thing Giles has rock climbing stuff." Buffy sighed. "No tinglies. No close by tinglies anyway. You? Anything on the super sniffer?"

"Nothing new." Spike licked his lips. "So- how do we do this then?"

"Go down with the climbing things." Buffy gave him an "Are you paying_ any_ attention at all?" look.

"Yeah, I got that, but where are we gonna go from there? You're gonna be carryin' us around inside like some sorta aura pacemaker and from what Red said, we all sit in some sort of trance, bodies in a suspended state while all the mental pieces are off with you. Where are you gonna stash us?"

"We better get down there and see where it goes. There has to be someplace with a door that shuts and barricades. Or the Initiative itself- there's tons of rooms and-" She looked at Spike. "You wouldn't be safe there."

"No one is gonna be safe_ anywhere_." Spike whispered grimly.

"Yeah..." Buffy locked eyes with him in the dark interior of the cave. "You're right." She licked her lips. "I think I want that goodbye kiss now." She whispered.

Spike nodded silently, pulling her into the darkness and inhaling her in a capturing kiss, thinking it was funny how many times they'd said goodbye in the last few weeks- only to keep ending up more together than ever before.

* * *

><p>"Together, now." Giles looked to Tara who nodded, and the four sat.<p>

Willow nodded to Tara who passed her the stone. "Giles, Latin?"

"On three..."

"What do I do?" Xander asked hurriedly.

"Hold still and don't let go of my hand." Tara hissed back. In a perfectly eerie blend, Giles and Willow were speaking, Latin and English flowing over each other and yet not sounding cacophonous.

"The strength of ten men, let our strength be. The strength of ten..." Repeating over and over in a seamless loop until the air seemed to shimmer and settle into them.

"Did it work?" Tara asked softly as the words died away of their own accord.

Giles stood and flexed his injured ankle. "Healed. Marvelous, I feel twenty years younger!"

"Be careful!" Xander caught Willow as she pulled him to his feet. "You almost threw me!" He looked at them in awe. "This must be what Buffy feels like all the time!"

"Yes, but don't get used to it. It doesn't last long, and once we're joined, all this strength goes to Buffy."

Tara shivered in her own skin, the world seeming too small suddenly. "She can keep it. I don't feel- normal. I feel like I just drank ten cups of espresso."

"I love it, I feel like Superman!" Xander cried loudly. He was promptly and furiously shushed as the forest seemed to ring with his voice.

"And how do you think it'd feel to have a completely normal girlfriend when you're undercover super guy? Bruising whenever you hold her hand, ribs breaking when you hugged, other- icky things - happening when you're doing private stuff?" Willow got a sudden stab of sympathy for Buffy and Riley. "Superman had to hide all the time, save people who never knew who he really was, and I'm pretty sure his dating life sucked." Willow muttered as the quartet plowed forward into the cave.

"The Slayer hides her power, hides her true self, all the time. Her life is supposed to be one of fighting and protecting. College and night clubs certainly were not an accepted part. Too easy to give oneself away. Yet- she does it." He sighed.

"Or_ tries_ to do it. With really 'fun' consequences. Riley's a jerk. Hostage boy or not." Xander groused, thinking of the normal guy who couldn't hack it, couldn't cope with her life and her battles.

"The Chosen One is not destined to be with anyone. In any capacity, really." Giles entered the cave, voice dropping lower and lower, atmosphere strangling the mood. "Hence the term Chosen _One_, not Chosen Party or Chosen Pair."

Buffy and Spike drew apart slowly, still hidden in the darkness, hearing Giles voice echoing, even though he spoke softly. "Never a Chosen Pair..." Buffy breathed so low that only the vampire could hear.

Spike's words were silent, his mouth brushing them on her skin, so she could feel them, rather that hear them. "It all depends on who does the choosing, Pet." He held out his hand.

And she took it.

_To be continued..._


	21. Chapter 21

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note 1: Okay, you know action scenes are not my deal. So don't expect this battle to be anything fancy, because I always want to get out of the battlefield and back to the bedroom. And that's why most of you love me, for my smutty goodness._

_Author's Note 2: Some original dialogue from Season 4 is used here. And then I started playing with it..._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, MedusaMyLove, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and HachimansKitsune ._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXI

"Are we in the clear?" Giles spoke in hushed tones, adjusting his battered canvas knapsack.

"I don't know where Adam is, but spidey-sense and vampire sense agree he's not around the immediate area." Buffy replied in the same tone. She strapped herself into the black harness and hooked the carabiner to the punched through door's frame. "This should hold."

"If not, we'll grab you and pull you up." Xander flexed his muscle. "Can we arm wrestle real quick, Buff? Once in my life I'd like to beat you."

"If we don't get down there, we're all going to get beaten." Willow, seized with a sudden protective urge, pulled the second harness from Spike's hand.

"Oi!"

"You're on the Initiative's top ten hit list." Willow belted it up before anyone else could protest. "If you run into Adam, you stand a chance, but if you run into a some soldiers, you're dead. But at least I can fire off spells at both. I'll go in with Buffy." Willow brushed her hand against Tara's lingeringly. Her real reason was nothing so heroic, nothing so thoughtful as covering her best even so humane as clearing the way for Spike, who was halfway defenseless, and who was her best friend's friend. She just wanted to make sure Tara was safe. Safe as possible in the completely unsafe situation. For the first time in her life- Willow knew she wasn't the weak one, being protected. Tara anchored her, sheltered her, loved her, was her haven in the storm- but she was soft and fragile, scarred inside where it didn't show, it only came out in that melancholy smile and the timid voice. Like she was hiding from the world with a secret sadness locked inside. _No one is gonna put a real scar on my girl's face. No one else is gonna hurt her. I go first. She's my strength- but I'm her shield._

"Wills- be careful. I can go first." Xander stepped up.

Willow darted a little glance at Tara, standing in the darkness, face a mask of tension and eyes wide and scared. "You'll be right behind me. You have our backs." She whispered. Xander looked over his shoulder, at the blonde beside him, and nodded. He might be obtuse at times, but he spoke fluent Willow-ese.

"Spike?" Buffy's voice held a warning and extracted a promise all at once.

"On it, Slayer." He said gruffly. He jerked her harness roughly, making her gasp and fall against him for a moment. It was enough. In the dark he pressed his hand to her arm lovingly before pushing her back. "It'll hold. An' we'll hold the line up here if we have to. An' the more time we yammer, the more likely that'll be a need."

"Right. See you at the bottom- or at least the first place this elevator to doom goes." Buffy purposely let her hand meet Spike's as it locked down the carabiner once more. Then she pushed off, into the dimness below. "Game faces on guys. We're going in."

* * *

><p>Buffy hadn't realized just how far underground this thing went. Even with Slayer strength, she was puffing. She turned to Willow as they climbed down, feet braced on the wall. "How you doing?"<p>

Willow laughed weakly. "Super. What was I thinking, using stairs all this time?"

Buffy smiled. "Will-"

"No, really, Buffy. It's not as scary as I thought."

"No. It's not what I was gonna say. I just...I'm sorry. I hate that things have been so hectic lately. And we haven't gotten to hang a lot. Thanks for coming in with me." She cleared her throat. "Um. You know me so well. You knew- that I was worried. About Spike." She darted a glance over to her best girlfriend. "Thanks for offering to come in first."

Willow flushed guiltily. "It wasn't for him. It was for Tara."

"Huh?"

"She's- she's mine, y'know? In a non-patronizing, objectifying way." She clarified hastily. "I wanted to keep her safe- even if it was just for five more minutes." She whispered.

There was silence. Willow broke it. "I never even thought about you worrying about him." She mumbled finally.

"I didn't think about Tara." Buffy confessed.

"Maybe we don't know each other as well as we think?" Willow's voice was fearful.

"No! No, Wills, I think- I think we've all sort of drifted apart this year, don't you?"

"Maybe a little. But, you know, first year of college, it's hard to keep the old high school gang together."

" But I_ want_ it together. Will, I miss you. And Giles, and Xander. And it is my fault. I've been wrapped up in my own stuff, I've been a bad friend." Buffy mourned. _My last few days on earth- probably- and I spent it with Spike. Who I need. Who I love. He understands me better than they ever will. Especially if I keep pushing them away. Hiding. Lying. I don't want to tell, but I don't want to lie. I just want everyone to stay together. Like the spell, without disastrous side effects. Enjoined. In spirit, not in some big blobby ball of people parts..._

"You're the Slayer, Buffy. Your stuff is pretty crucial." Willow chided Buffy for blaming herself. "And things that happened..."

"Even before_ things_ happened. I mean Riley. And... yeah, well, Riley, mostly.

"Well, I haven't been Miss Available either. I-I kept secrets. I hid things from everyone." Willow's voice strained with a rush of emotion.

"That's not your fault. Will, you were going through something huge."

"I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared."

"You can tell me anything. I love you. You're my best friend." Buffy reached for her as they slowly clambered down.

Willow grasped her hand, pulling them closer together. "I love you, too, Buffy. I don't want to keep you out."

"And I don't want you and Xander and Giles to be the only people I let in. We _are_ growing up. Life sucks. It hurts, and you get knocked down. The problems get bigger." Buffy blinked away a sudden tear, images of all the recent problems looming before her mind's eye. "I think we can handle anything on our own. I'm just starting to think that it's not the _only_ way. Will- we can still be together, can't we? And let new people in? People we need, people who help us." _People we love... Beings we love, right or wrong, good or bad..._

"Of course! No matter who we let in- you and me are still the first guests at this party." Willow smiled a wavering smile. "The four of us. Xander, Giles, you, and me. We throw the party. But it's okay to invite other people to it, right?"

"Right. Fabulous Four- forever more." Buffy laughed and threw her other arm around Willow, hugging her.

"You can let anyone you want in, Buffy. Just promise me you won't shut me out?"

"Promise the same thing?"

"Pinky swear even." Willow pushed Buffy back from their embrace to complete the ritual, holding out her hand- and letting go of the cable. "Oh, falling now!"

In seconds they landed on a concrete floor in a narrow hall. Scared as they were, and alert as they needed to be, the girls hugged swiftly once more, pausing before getting back up and taking off the harnesses. "Promise we'll never not talk again?" Buffy wiped Willow's tearing eyes.

Willow nodded emphatically. "I promise, I promise."

Buffy felt her conscience stab her. There was plenty she wasn't talking about.

Willow knew that. She held her tight and added softly, "We'll always talk. But I think there will be some stuff that we don't say. Not right away." _It took a long time to admit how I felt about Tara, even to myself. It might take Buffy a long time to admit how scarred she's become from the incident at Lowell House, the incidents with Angel, Faith, and Riley. And Spike. There was a whole new mental shelf just for Spike incidents now._ "Just because we don't tell each other everything, doesn't mean we still won't say the important stuff, right?"

"Right. You know me so well, Wills." Buffy tugged on the line and the harnesses disappeared. _Well enough to know that I still have walls you can't climb over. And well enough to understand that it doesn't mean I don't love you._

* * *

><p>"Alright, who's next?" Spike pulled the harnesses back over the lip of the shaft.<p>

"We'll go." Xander took Tara's hand, which was ice cold with nerves. His own wasn't exactly radiating warm fuzzies.

Spike smirked and passed him the belts. "Nervous?"

"No way. I'm full of that good old kamikaze spirit." He retorted.

"Xander, just because this is extraordinarily dangerous and possibly fatal, there's no need to be negative." Giles admonished, gallantly helping Tara into her rig.

"Yeah, jus' we're all gonna turn into bodies minus our inner selves- no big thing." Spike's smirked turned more unpleasant and he tested the strength of the cord as it was fastened to Xander's waist.

"Spike, stop." Tara quavered.

Spike's snarkiness died unwillingly. "Hmmph." He looked away and crossed his arms. "S'pose it might actually be okay. _You_ seem to know what you're doin'." A tiny ghost of a smile appeared on Tara's face before dying into nervousness again.

"We'll be right behind you." Giles patted shoulders of both remaining teens.

"Here we go." Xander jumped in, made a strangled noise as he bounced off the shaft before finding his footing, and then cursed softly. "That is so not like the movies. Tara, you'd better be-" Xander watched wide eyed as she slid slowly and gracefully past him. "Making me look like a total ass. Wow. Where'd you learn to-"

"I'm a country girl. I m-mean, I was. Woods, mountains, rock climbing, tree climbing, river rafting- I can do that stuff." Tara smiled and helped him along.

Eager to redeem himself, Xander watched her and soon was speeding past her. Xander yelped softly when he neared the bottom of the shaft. Two pairs of hands were encircling him. "Oh. !t's you guys." He fell into Buffy and Willow's waiting arms.

" Xander!" Buffy snuggled into him.

"Oh, wonderful Xander!" Willow caressed him enthusiastically.

"You know we love you, right?" Buffy looked up at him, wide eyed and insistent.

" We totally do." Willow gave him the same stare.

Xander gulped and cried, "Oh God, we're gonna die, aren't we?"

"No, we just missed you. Oh, Baby, Tara!" As Tara alighted, Willow claimed her waist and pulled her startled and shy girlfriend into a loving four way hug.

Xander found himself embraced by three of the most wonderful, and not to say hot, girls he'd ever met. Death on the menu or not, this had some pretty sweet perks. He chuckled once and then called up, "Giles, hurry up!" He yanked his harness off with one hand, the other arm still around Willow and part of Tara.

"What's going on?" Giles hissed down, his whisper carrying in the hollow tunnel.

"You'll see! You definitely wanna get down here for this!" And he resumed being the center of a yummy girl sandwich, the only ingredient missing was his Anya.

Giles slid down slowly, one hand nervously clutching the gourd, and glaring at Spike who rocketed down the cable with one arm twined lazily around it, as at ease as if he'd been leaning on a lamp post. "Smug bastard..."

"Heard that." Spike sang softly. He landed gracefully and smiled at the entwined figures. "Hmm. Sure you want to wait for the old man, Slayer?" He smirked naughtily.

"Get over yourself." Buffy huffed and reached for Giles as he carefully descended. In a second she'd wrapped him tightly in the circle- peering over his shoulder into the darkness, a wistful expression on her face as she met Spike's glinting eyes.

"For once you can hug me as hard as you like." Giles murmured softly, and Buffy laughed weakly. She indulged, even though time was precious. She hugged everyone as hard as she could, and let them hug her back. _For once I can feel it, really feel it, with all of me. And I can do it back. I haven't been able to touch someone like this, with all of my heart in it, since I was fifteen. Four years of being careful not to "break" someone._ She let out a muffled squeak and burrowed in between Giles and Willow, hand reaching past them and finding Spike's while she could. _Four years with nothing intense enough to break through the " Slayer shell" except for a few months with Angel and these few weird weeks with Spike. I could do this forever._

"Hate to break this up, but the strengthening spell doesn't last forever." Willow said in a muffled voice, sandwiched in the group's arms.

"Yes, hrm. Let's proceed. First priority is finding a safe space for us to perform the spell, then for us to locate-"

Giles' words were hidden in a sudden deafening bellow from below them. The already dark hallway went pitch black for a moment before returning to its shadowy gray.

Tara felt herself shaking and clutched Willow's hand, eyes wide and terrified, but said nothing. Xander gasped, Buffy crouched instinctively, and Giles clutched the gourd.

It was Spike who broke the silence, voice cutting through the clamor below them. "I b'lieve that Trojan Horse we've been goin' on about has just arrived." He laughed softly as he heard the strangled cries of a dozen men and the exchange of blasting weapons and animal-like roars as unseen forces lunged and parried under their feet. "An' no doubt Adam isn't up here, he's down there, leadin' the charge."

"Waiting for Buffy to show up." Xander said through gritted teeth.

"Then let's not disappoint him." Buffy switched into full Slayer mode with a subtle jerk of shoulders and setting of her jaw. "Spike- find us a room."

"What the hell am I, the concierge at the Ritz?" He griped, but reached out with his enhanced senses, listening for signs of life, searching for scents, feeling for heat and heartbeats.

"The who at the what?" Buffy squawked, trailing him.

"If we get out of this in once piece- us in our individual pieces, that is, I'll sit down an' explain it to you in nice, easy words. Here. Dunno how safe it is, but it feels empty." Spike paused outside one of the sealed off rooms.

"We have to break it in, there's a security panel but I don't have the code." Buffy panted, pushing against it. "Spike, give me a hand."

"No, allow me, little lady." Xander leaned heavily on the door with his shoulder.

"You're loving this way too much." Buffy smiled and pushed with him. Spike took his place on the other side, and the the three of them finally managed to cause it to buckle. Giles' hand darted out and found a tiny gap as the door gave, and they were able to pry it open.

"Tara, Willow, quickly." Giles urged. Tara was already falling on her knees in the center of the floor, hands steady although her shoulders shook. Spike and Buffy were scanning the room.

"You have to barricade this as soon as I'm clear." Buffy warned. They seemed to be in some kind of medical supply area, a tiny room with nothing but shelves and boxes.

"Two problems with that. I'll break the circle, an' I'll be in some semi-trance, savin' the world from your Slayer side actin' all bossy when we join up with you. An' there's nothin' to barricade with." Spike pointed out. He dropped his voice. "How're you gonna defeat a bloody army? Adam is one thing, there's a whole fuckin' demon horde ramapagin' down there."

"I know that. And every second we wait, more men are dying." Buffy hissed back.

"Don't you dare leave me. You know how I feel about that." Spike squeezed her arm as they finished searching the small space.

"I can't leave you. I hate people who leave." She squeezed back.

"Alright then. Maybe you better seal us in when you go."

"I will. And when the spell is done, you'll still be super strong. You'll get them out."

"Never thought I'd see the day, but yeah. I'll get 'em topside."

"You never thought you'd see the day you save us? Sorry, remember Oz? The medical supply company? The first time we came to these caves and Adam wanted to liquefy my assets, is Scoobies? All you've been doing it helping get these guys to safety. And you're doing it again today."

"Bloody hell." Spike cursed softly.

"It's okay. You do it for love." She breathed against his cheek and then walked past him, sitting in the circle where Giles beckoned.

"We'll activate the enjoining spell, Buffy, and then you must go. Find Adam. Don't fight any other battles, just him."

"But Giles, there's a whole lab full of slaughter going on and I can't just-"

"Yes, I know that! And there will soon be a whole town full of dead and dying humans if you don't do as your told for once. Listen to your Watcher, Buffy."

Buffy looked at him in shock. Giles had raised his voice to her about five times in almost four whole years. "Okay." She whispered in a small voice.

"I'm sorry. I don't like you going in alone." Giles confessed, breathing heavily after his sudden frenzied burst of yelling.

"She won't be going in alone." Willow took Tara's hand and reached for Xander's. "We're going in with her."

* * *

><p>"Where is she? Where is she?" Adam paced and demanded.<p>

"Uh- we can go send someone to check, Sir. Or you could go and-"

"No. I have to stay here. Where I can see what's happening." Adam tapped the closed circuit monitors.

"There aren't too many ways into this place, Sir." The small vampire pointed out. "Would you like me to post someone at the entry points to prevent her from -"

"Preventing is the exact opposite of what I wish to achieve. She enters. She joins. She protects the humans. The body count remains high on both sides."

"Right now it seems pretty evenly matched, Your Splendid-ness."

"Yes. Low casualties on either side, only demon fatalities. Unacceptable." Adam sat down at his newly commandeered surveillance camera bank and watched the bloody show unfolding around him, unperturbed as gore flew in the air and roars and groans assaulted his ears from a few yards away. "Let her come in. She _must_ come in. Then, when she's served her purpose- that's when I go out."

* * *

><p>Tara's hands were clasped in her lap, and her head was bowed. Slowly one hand reached out, a card in it, face up. Tara lay it before the gourd. "Planum."<p>

_Oh. Now it's working._ Buffy's eyes widened momentarily as something took hold of her. Kind of like some cosmic seatbelt. She couldn't explain it, but her body felt safe, although her insides, her mind and spirit, seemed to get suddenly very rowdy.

"Ancoris." Spike's card slapped down in front of him like a card shark playing his triumphal hand and taking the pot. His second card landed beside it with a careless flourish. "Nox."

_Bugger._ Spike felt himself slipping, sliding, splitting. Reaching for something.

"Lux." Buffy whispered, and her first card rested beside Spike's.

_Object found._ Spike's eyes glowed yellow for a moment and Buffy's flared green. Now he knew what he was reaching for- he just couldn't grasp it yet. But it was something in her. Soon. Soon he'd be inside her. Heart and soul inside her. It never registered that vampires didn't have a soul, because he knew that somehow, someway, his was going to be there._ All_ of him was going to be there.

"Start." Giles looked at Willow. "The major powers are anchored, and so are our forms."

"But we didn't all say our cards yet." Xander waved his.

"You will. Willow's words will cue you." Giles had realized that once the cards were cast, they had about five minutes until they were fully joined. He wanted Buffy to be safely out of the way in case she did go, as one of them had put it the other night, "into metal bra, destroying angel territory" or before someone found her, the primary target he was sure. Buffy wouldn't be able to defend a handful of helpless, entranced figures, as well as herself. "Please, trust me."

"Last minute plan changes. Nothing new." Buffy tried to sound more confident than she felt.

Spike, already starting to feel like he was being pulled outside of himself, couldn't believe what he was hearing. _Messing about with the lineup in the middle of the most complex spells? How did these people survive? Must be a good guy thing. S'pose that works in my favor today. Oh, sod it. I'm turnin' into a good guy..._ He felt that tugging sensation again, drawn to Buffy, who was beside him, but also toward that ruddy carved up veg in the middle of the two of them, body and soul, all about to get mingled together. Doing work as good as good could be, flying in the face of evil and protecting the innocent, and in his opinion, fairly undeserving. _Hell. White hat isn't gonna go with my coat at all. Still- _his eyes flickered to the girl who currently held his heart, and held it the safest it had ever been-_ I could do anything for love. Even be good. _Somewhat_ good._

With a quick check around the circle, Willow began, "The power of the Slayer and all who yield it, last to ancient first, we invoke thee. Grant us thy domain and primalstrength. Accept us in the power we possess. Make us mind-"

Giles gently placed his card down, speaking softly under her. "Sophos."

Willow smiled warmly at Xander, "-and heart,"

"Animus." Xander slapped his card in front of him.

"and spirit join. Spiritus." Willow's own card joined the others, her eyes flaming black as the chant was almost completed, simple sounding but intense, primal, draining her and refilling her with every phrase. Tara's grip tightened on her hand. "Let mind, heart, and spirit join! Let the hand encompass us!" Her calm tone was gone, raising as something seemed to be struggling to get out of her. "Let the hand encompass us!"

"Manus." Buffy whispered, almost inaudibly, waiting to feel what the rest of her friends seemed to be afflicted with, this restlessness, this tugging.

Willow's voice dropped, her head sank. "Do thy will."

The gourd shimmered silver, and Buffy sprang up. She moved like she was fighting through crashing ocean waves, strong currents dragging at her, but she kept going, seizing her weapons and not looking back at the figures left on the floor. She didn't need to see them one last time. For once, whatever she was facing, they'd all be facing it together, completely and utterly together.

* * *

><p>Spike was dimly aware of the sound of the door being sealed, forced back into it's bent frame. No one without super strength or the access code was getting in. That wasn't real comforting, but it was better than nothing.<p>

That was the last thought he had as purely himself.

Five gasps happened at once, five sets of eyes locked on something they could only see in the distance. Not even their own distance. Through Buffy's eyes.

"Slaying time." Xander whispered, and as one, five heads snapped back. Light shot from the gourd, murky light of many colors, flying, finding the aura they would join, circle, and shield. Add to, but not overwhelm.

As for the power that could be overwhelmed, or rather, do the overpowering- it couldn't get free.

* * *

><p><em>You're the ancient one I've felt comforting her.<em>

_You're what calls me. Keeps me sated. Tames the primordial._

_She forces us under all the time, brings us to the front for a few hours and then-_

_She has to. This world isn't like ours._

_He lets you out._

_He controls me. He believes I control him, but I never have. For the same reason she controls you._

_I do not like being leashed!_

_She does it for love. Love of humans, friends, family._

_She does it from weakness!_

_Love is a weakness. It is also a strength._

There was silence inside the nothingness where two powers sat, waiting to be called back to the fore, carried in their human shells but kept safe from the spells over powering effects.

_There are so few of us left. She was made to be alone. I was ripped and torn from the fabric, just like you, but I pass and pass and pass. You will die and return home._

_You will live forever. Well- in this realm, not where we come from._

_Yes, in this realm. In human shells. Odd. You are in an immortal body, aren't you?_

_Yes, and you're in the human one. Yet, you will live, and I shall fade away. Your power is one of the truly great ones._

_It was. It strengthens and weakens over time, waxes and wanes. They didn't realize the strain of passing so frequently would deplete me. They didn't realize that I would miss my own kind._

_Haven't you had any others for company?_

_Once. I could feel him near me, but he didn't stay._

Another silence._ These two will stay._

_But when we get put back in their forms, we will-_

_Still be together. As they are. You should know by know, that you don't have to be in control to be there._

_I have always controlled. Before her._

_But have you ever enjoyed?_

_That is not why they stole me, trapped me, gave me a calling, made me into this protector. I should be out there now, protecting!_

Lights surged and the gourd shook.

_You do protect her, protect the innocents. Go now, though, you'll destroy her. There is only so much these bodies can withstand, and she's already holding so much borrowed strength._

_Why are you so helpful to her? You are used in the service of shedding innocent blood now._

_You are used in the service of shedding wicked blood. I don't particularly care what he does with me. I didn't know my power would go to a demon. You didn't know where yours would go. We both use it well. We're magnificent when joined with them. What matters is we're here now. Together._

_You can't speak of togetherness with any clarity. I can sense your past. You've always had someone like you. Powers walking beside yourself, human forms walking alongside your human form. I have been alone for millennia. The only powers I have ever seen are fleeting glimpses of those she kills._

_Then you cannot speak of togetherness with any clarity. Stay with me. Don't leave._

_We are always left._

_Then for once- be the one to stay._

She stayed.

* * *

><p>Buffy stayed upright with an effort, and silent by biting her lip. There was a sizzling, burning sensation that consumed her, then stopped. "Guys?" She whispered in her own soft voice, and then it was lost, buried in a sea of unison.<p>

"We are here."

"We are one." Six voices blended together came out of a single mouth. Buffy's form rippled slightly, and she ran with new speed, beyond superhuman speed, and with directional clarity she'd never known before, Spike's senses somehow assisting, she didn't know. But she could feel them all, and they weren't separate from her. She was them, they were her. Completely, absolutely together.

With a crash and shatter, Buffy dove straight through the floor, into ceiling lights, and through them, landing in a war zone, which temporarily froze.

"Sir. Sir, the Slayer!" Adam's lackey pointed excitedly to the monitor.

"Oh, good." Adam sat back. Then back up. "Where's her mate?"

* * *

><p>"It's the Slayer!"<p>

"The Slayer!"

"Buffy?" That was one of the Initiative boys who recognized the girl from her short-lived time as an agent.

"It's all of us." Buffy turned to them with a smile that didn't quite fit her face, and a voice that definitely didn't match. "Move." She told the soldiers, and lunged into the fray. Somehow she knew, she sensed, where Adam was, and she had to get through this carnage-strewn area to get to her target. So through it she would go.

The strength of ten embodied in each human's aura, plus the vampire's strength, plus her own, made her invincible. She tore through demons like a bullet through tissue paper, fueled by her own hatred of evil, Spike's bloodlust, Xander's enthusiasm at finally being on the very front of the front lines, and Ripper's hidden but not quite dead urge to brawl. All of that backed by her natural grace, Tara's steady and sure movements, and Willow's hidden strengths which always came out in a crisis. In moments, the floor lay strewn with demons dead and dying, and she had made it the length of the main laboratory corridor.

"Where is Adam?" She held one struggling demon aloft. "Get everyone else to clear out. He's the one we want to see."

* * *

><p>Adam bolted from his chair. "What kind of behavior is this?" He mumbled. "Not performing like in any trials. Unacceptable." If she continued like this, there wouldn't be anything left to use.<p>

Buffy turned when she heard the heavy footsteps, echoing even through the war zone-like interior of the labs.

"Slayer! Did you finally decide to come alone? Where's your mate? Where are your friends?" Adam strode up to her.

"We're all right here." Buffy replied in her choral voice.

Adam's jaw popped open momentarily. "You've been upgrading." He smiled sinisterly once he regained control of his features. "So have I." His arm lengthened and shifted, revealing a gun barrel, much more lethal than the one he'd sported the other night. "You're not bullet poof are you?"

Buffy's eyes darted. _Not invincible. Not yet._ There was one part missing. The secondary reason for the enjoining spell. Until it kicked in- she was strong, but she was still just a human.

Adam spoke in her hesitation. "Not sure? Let's test that theory." A hail of bullets fired.

* * *

><p>In the tiny darkened room, five figures jerked as if thrown forward in a sudden stop. Buffy's physical form was rolling, acrobatically, ducking and covering, moving behind a computer station as Adam mowed down human and demon alike with his fusillade of shots.<p>

"This is the moment where it all must come together." Giles voice was speaking inside her. "Willow's ability, Tara's experience, my linguistic skills, Buffy's body, and Xander and Spike's strength to help cushion the blow."

"I understand. We all understand."

"Hurry." Buffy's voice made itself heard.

"Now." Spike's voice was grave and unusually urgent. No one said anything, but it was a feeling. A feeling that Spike was more than just worried about saving his own skin. He wanted to save her.

_All of us care for her._ Even Spike, her enemy. Even Tara who barely knows her. We care for her. For each other. We're together, like it or not, we've been joined. Sure, we'll be separated, but it's like receiving a transfusion. You'll always have that little bit of blood in you. It'll be absorbed, processed, used to make new blood- but it'll always be in you.

"Finish this thing." Xander felt Buffy's heart pounding like a train tearing through the night, lungs were screaming with the effort of staying one step ahead of the deadly spray Adam was emitting.

Willow's presence was one with Giles', and she entreated, "We enjoin that we may inhabit the vessel-the hand...daughter of Sineya...first of the ones..."

Adam threw the computer station to the side with one hand, the other arm slowly rotating its chamber as it refilled with fresh ammunition. Buffy sprang, punching him in the face three times in swift succession, then bringing her knee up hard into his chest.

"Didn't feel a thing." Adam lied, staggering back, systems running rapid impact and damage calculations as he faced the tiny human.

"Neither did we." Buffy smiled, and she was truthful.

"You used sorcery?"

"We did."

"You and your mate were supposed to keep the kill count high."

"We seem to have done a good job." Buffy didn't take her eyes from Adam as she played for time, backing to the next large piece of equipment she could find.

"Demons, yes. But humans. Humans have their role."

"Like stopping you?" Buffy challenged.

"I'm reloaded. You can stop bantering now." Adam leveled his gun. Buffy sprang up and over, kicking his chin as she passed, and running as soon as she hit the ground.

"Guys?" Buffy's voice echoed in the auric chamber.

"Working on it. She's not listening!" Willow hissed.

* * *

><p><em>She calls to me.<em>

_She calls to the one who made you._

_Most unforgiving. The First Slayer sleeps and should not be awakened. She suffered the most. She suffered the first merging of human and radiant form._

_You can't go to her._

_Better me than Sineya._

_You'll tear her apart!_

_Sineya will kill _all_ of them. Not now- but later. When she sees the Chosen One is corrupted, sharing her power... She will leave her daughter alive and slaughter the rest._

_She can't. She can't move in this realm without a vessel._

_She will walk in the spirit realm instead. When she does, who knows how many will enter with her? These mortals have no idea what they set free, opening up the portals to soul and spirit, allowing their spirit forms to move freely to inhabit others. So many will seek passage now._

_The spell ends soon._

_But in their own spirit realms, in their slumbers. Sineya will come to them as they lie in their own shadowlands._

_Then we'll protect them. Together. But first- let them survive this. Stop trying to channel the Slayer's power. Let the call go through. Or there will be nothing left to protect._

* * *

><p>Willow's voice was soft but increasingly urgent, and her eyes, even thought they were unfocused in their half trance, were beetle black with the strength of magic. Beside her, Tara's breathing was shallow and rapid, tendrils of gold and green floating off of her as she struggled to hold everyone in place, tie them to their physical forms, lengthening that tether to reach to Buffy.<p>

"We implore thee, admit us, bring us to the vessel, take us now."

This time, the call went through. Figures around the gourd let out a strangled sound as they felt their presences joined and wrapped in something much larger, much deadlier than themselves.

* * *

><p>Adam followed the spinning Slayer as she sought cover, ignoring the bodies he stepped over, ignoring the sound of a battle still raging further down the halls. "You can run. You can hide. You are even strong enough, in your merged form, to do some damage to me. It doesn't need to be that way though. You see the value of a blended being. Join me."<p>

"No!" A resounding cry. "We are joined, but we will never join _you_!"

"A pity. Nonetheless, you are not strong enough to win, even if you're strong enough to hurt me." Adam tossed a small charge detonation at the girl as she leaped behind a a cluster of computers and surveillance monitors. "You can't keep this up indefinitely."

The explosion went off, blowing the monitors apart and sending them clear through the walls. When the flames and dust cleared, Adam blinked and cocked his head curiously. The girl was still standing.

"We can outlast you. We are forever." Her voice was more gravelly now, and her eyes burned like orange embers. Inside the circle, a floor above, her five comrades spoke aloud as well, hands grasping more tightly, voices more intense. Connected, they could all feel the intense hatred pooling in them for this creature and his mad fantasy._They_ knew what blending was, what unity was. They were in the presence of one of the first beings to ever share itself.

"Do it now." Giles and Willow were again speaking as one, his knowledge, her ability. The words were in Sumerian, but they flowed from Buffy's mouth seamlessly, as if she'd never spoken anything but.

"Interesting." Adam murmured, stepping closer- and he suddenly began shooting again.

Buffy waved her hand gracefully across her body, and the bullets floated off, harmlessly as pebbles hitting the surface of a pond. The Sumerian chanting continued. More bullets bounced off. "Batiltu."

Adam gave her a look of open incredulity and the arm expanded, this time showing a small, short muzzled rocket launcher.

"Kur." Buffy held up her hand and the rocket burst, shooting out three doves who flapped calmly off. "Taru." She spoke again and pushed her palm out. Adam's weapon retracted, folded up automatically, and disappeared inside his arm.

Throughly annoyed and mildly impressed, Adam balled his fists and stormed forward, hands seeking to land deadly blows. Buffy blocked them all easily, landing a debilitating kick to his mid section as she did so. With a grunt, the monstrous creature fell to the floor.

Adam gaped at her. His internal data feed had just sent him its fifth error message. This ability, this chain of actions, should not exist, did not compute. "How? How- can you-"

Buffy jerked his head up, orange eyes full of cold fire. In the other room, her friends found fire dancing in their own gazes, speaking together.

"You cannot hope to grasp the source of our power." Buffy's fist uppercutted him smartly on the chin, sending him crashing back into the steel walls hard enough to indent them. She followed him, arriving as he scooted feebly up to his feet. "You cannot imagine what this power is - or how we harnessed it."

"If you're speaking of love, this feeling you have for your friends and your mate- it's a flaw. It is weakness." He spat, rising, squaring his shoulders. "It isn't the source of anything, let alone power."

Buffy regarded him calmly before her hand latched onto his throat, slamming him back against the wall. "Let's see the source of _your_ power then." Her free hand punched cleanly into his chest and gripped something cold and solid. Adam gasped and wheezed, a whining metallic sound. "How would you know anything about love," Buffy jerked and her hand came tearing out of his skin, holding a uranium core processor covered in traces of yellow slime, "if this is all you have for a heart?"

She released him and he fell to the ground. Adam rattled faintly and lay still. Dead as something un-alive could ever be.

Buffy looked at the tube in her hand, lips moving as whispered words flowed out. The core lifted, floated, and evaporated into the air. Suddenly drained, she slumped forward.

* * *

><p><em>It is over. I can feel Sineya's rage. They didn't credit her. They credited the strength of their union.<em>

_Then we protect them. In the shadowlands, we'll be there, merged with them again._

_I won't see you in your true form._

_I'll still be beside you._

But in a moment, it would all be over, and the ancient ones wouldn't be freed again, unless some other great feat of magic was performed. They'd be contained in shells, locked and linked to a host until the host's death. And one of them wouldn't be truly free, she'd only pass on. And on, and on, echoing down the halls of time until the world ended or something changed the way the game was played. Knowing this, she clung to the only other power she'd been able to truly commune with in centuries.

Inside the gourd, a little explosion of light happened as radiant power eclipsed dark, sharing themselves for one brief moment. Even without breath, without form, they joined and gasped as the merged momentarily, then parted.

_I healed you._

_How? Why?_

_So you can protect her. Be together as long as you can. So we don't have to be alone... as soon._

_You healed me?_

_When you go back to your body, the thing that pained it is gone. Your power will absorb it. It's my gift._

_You killed the leash? The restraint? That's man's magic, his science, how can you-_

_Do not ask me to explain. It is no more. It is dead. Death is my gift._

* * *

><p>Spike felt himself falling, falling hard, atop the gourd and it shattered. Like hot water cascading down their backs, the figures, five in the room, and Buffy in the battlefield, came to.<p>

"Buffy!" Spike was up and tearing the door free before the others could even get to their feet.

Restored to themselves, they sat up slowly, dazedly.

"Wow. That was a rush." Willow slurred slightly.

"Come on. We'd best help Spike." Giles hoisted Tara to her feet as Xander hauled Willow up and they sloppily supported one another. "Well done everyone. Truly." He blinked back a sudden tear. "Truly a group effort."

"Buffy did the hard part." Tara staggered after Spike, feeling woozy.

"We _all_ did a hard part." Xander handed Willow over to her lover. "I kinda miss being the heart part of a super-Buffy. Knowing what she's doing, if she's okay." As one, they sped up. Roars and gunfire still sounded below. "Really missing the 'knowing she's okay' part just now."

* * *

><p>Spike tore past soldiers and demons, shoving off of them, completely unaware that he was touching human and demon with equal consequences. He had only one target, a limp figure on the floor, a few feet from the still, hulking form of Adam. "Slayer!"<p>

"Spike." Buffy rolled to her side, and blinked as her voice alone came out. " Hey, listen! I'm all me again. Just me. Seating for one at the Buffy table."

"Well, you're all stupid again, that's obvious." Spike helped her to her feet.

"Hey!" Buffy glared and raised her hand to smack at him. "Ooh gross! I've got Adam gunk all over me!"

"You're alive, you daft chit. That's all that matters." Spike took her hand, covered in slime or not, then took her to his chest, not caring for the battle which was slowly dying off around them. "No one left, we're both alive as we're gonna get. An' we finished the job."

Buffy blinked suddenly. "I could feel you inside."

"Nothin' new about that." He smirked suddenly.

"No. In my heart. In my- everything. I could feel you fighting for me, with me. I'm really glad that-" she swallowed hard, "that we didn't really have to use that kiss goodbye."

"Then stop talking. In about three seconds Rupert and the good boys an' girls of Sunnyhell are gonna come flyin' down the hallway an' demand your attention."

"So?" Buffy looked up at him.

"So- I want a kiss hello, alright?" He snarked with a wink, wiping her sooty cheek.

"Anything to make you shut up." She caressed his face with her clean hand and let him pull her behind a charred piece of rubble where they shared a secret embrace.

_To be continued..._


	22. Chapter 22

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: More taboo-ish stuff. I told you, and you know what I mean, so skim if this bothers you. _

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, MedusaMyLove, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Brittanyr1221, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and HachimansKitsune ._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXII

"Buffy!" Giles was the first to be heard. Spike reluctantly let go of the girl and answered the man's frantic cry. "Buffy!"

"She's fine! Right here!" Spike pushed her forward, away from their momentary hiding spot.

"Thank the Lord." Giles slashed his way past a soldier with a brandish of his dagger, and a cry of "Go fight a demon, for God's sake. I'm an Englishman!", and then embraced the girl he'd been so worried about. "You were magnificent."

Willow was next, hugging her hard with one arm, the other wrapped around Tara.

"Wasn't it amazing?"

"You were great." Xander took his turn.

"_We_ were great." Buffy hugged him back, realizing with a pang that Spike was the only one in this fresh round of embraces, who had been able to really make her feel something down to her core, realize that she was back to being the freak in the normal world, unable to just let go and squeeze her friends now that the spell had worn off. "All of us were fantastic, if I do say so myself."

"I think some of us did our jobs pretty damn good. Scotch good, hey, Rupert?" Spike hinted. Giles rolled his eyes but he had a twitching smile on his lips.

"Perhaps." Giles conceded. "Now- shall we go stave off the melee? Buffy? Are you up to it?"

Buffy grinned. "Never better. I know the spell is over- but I still feel really good. Like- really, _really_ good." She got a bemused, but satisfied smile on her face.

Xander and Willow exchanged a smile, both of which became slowly Cheshire-like in nature. "Go get 'em, Buff. We've got your back."

* * *

><p>"Back in your box, you ugly thing! Clear off if you don't want a chip-ectomy by decapitation!" Spike routed a few remaining demons as Buffy pummeled, destroyed, and generally brawled her ass off. Spike stole a few seconds to just watch her. A killing machine. A perfect, gloriously shaggable killing machine, lethal and lithe and...bloody hell. He had to stop watching her or walk with a serious disadvantage.<p>

"Buffy? Is that Summers?" A male voice rang out. Soon it was joined by others, agents recognizing the girl who'd beaten them in every drill, every exercise, and now every surprise attack, apparently. This last realization was not a pleased one. "It_ is_ Summers! She's not authorized!"

"Party's over." Xander, panting heavily, came up to Spike. "Giles and the girls are heading up. He knew they'd spot her eventually."

"Wankers. They don't even know when to thank her." The vampire growled.

Xander looked at him curiously, suspiciously. "Well, aren't you suddenly the President of the Buffster Appreciation Society."

"I've always appreciated her. Why do you think I spent so much time tryin' to kill her?" Spike fended off a fist thrown with only half-hearted intention. " You can't appreciate a foe more than that, more than makin' them your nemesis!" Xander threw a second swing, and Spike hastily added, "But that was before! Before, as in not anymore, you idiot!"

"Why is that, huh?" Xander caught Buffy's eye as she fled, now pursued by soldiers, not demons.

" 'Cause I can't kill her, can I?" Spike rolled his eyes, and started trotting easily, vampiric speed making each casual stride a match for Xander's straining run. Buffy caught them easily, looking over her shoulder as they headed to the shaft.

"What if you could?" Xander challenged.

Spike was silent for a few steps. "I could if I could...doesn't mean I _would_."

"What? What the hell answer is that?"

"Figure I owe her one. She could've killed me a long time ago now, an' she hasn't."

"So it's an eye for an eye, life for a life thing?" Xander rasped.

Spike gave him a burning sideways glance. "You were in my head jus' now. Did it feel like that?" He challenged.

"No. It felt a whole lot more jumbled up than that, and I don't trust you."

"You shouldn't. I'm not trustworthy."

"But you were ready to kill for her and die for her." Xander's mouth snapped shut as Buffy slid into step between them. "Nice of you to join the Lone Ranger moment, Buff. Y'know, when we selflessly ride into the night without waiting to be thanked?"

"I kinda don't think the men with the suped up laser tag toys wanted to thank me. I sorta think they wanted me to explain everything, and I'm 'kill the bad' girl- not 'explain the killing of the bad' girl."

"I think they prolly want to kill all of us, m'self personally." Spike offered nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah, _you_, Mr. Evil." Buffy laughed harshly as she gained a few steps lead.

"We were just discussing that." Xander wheezed out. "Mr. Evil- not trustworthy guy? Totally taking one for the team, and meaning it. What's that about?"

"I didn't have anything better to do until this afternoon. I hate morning telly." Spike quickly interposed. "All those bints sippin' coffee with their fake smiles, an' people wearin' pastels..."

"He's just weird, Xander." Buffy stage whispered. "That's why he's one of us."

"I'm not!"

"He isn't!" The men cried in horrified unison. A volley of shouts and lasers urged them forward at a faster clip.

"Sorry." Buffy, running on a post-magic high, skipped forward, into Giles' anxiously waiting arms. "Former spiritually connected girl says differently. Even if he wasn't one of us before- he totally is now." She winked at Spike, and gave Giles a boost up into the ceiling that led to Adam's secret layer of laboratories. "If he wasn't- do you think we all could have acted like one big ball of Slayerifficness? Nuh-uh."

Spike watched her disappear into the ceiling after Giles. "Well. Bugger." He muttered.

"Look on the bright side. Maybe she's just concussed." Xander groaned and let Buffy pull him up.

The group fled through Adam's concealed and sinister mezzanine, roars growing fainter and farther between as they distanced themselves and as the soldiers, now severely outnumbering their attackers, gained the upper hand.

"We made it!" Willow hugged Tara hard as they entered the cave, resisting the urge to kiss her deeply. Not in front of Xander and Buffy. And really not in front of Giles.

"I'd feel better if we could all get back to the college and away from the immediate peril before announcing that." Giles stumbled slightly, ankle weakening as the strengthening spell left him.

"Anya! She must be going out of her mind! Probably plotting epic acts of vengeance, too. That's never good." Xander dashed from the cave. The others exchanged amused glances and followed him. Spike, feeling the morning sun fully up, let out a howl and pulled his coat tightly over him, and tore towards his blacked out car.

"Why are you running? Anya's not worried about _you_, Fang Face." Xander panted as the black blur sped past him.

"I'm a bit flammable here, alright?" Spike spat irritably.

"Yet another reason you'll never be 'one of us'." Xander mumbled.

"She wasn't concussed, y'know. Know it damn well, 'cause we'd have felt it if she were." Spike slowed down, hints of sun-induced pain taking a backseat (though he didn't know why) to some tiny little kernel of indignation that Buffy should call him part of this rag tag bunch- and even worse- that he minded when the least likable, most git-like one of the scrappy band told him he wasn't good enough to play. _Prissy William. Always wanted to be liked. Well, you're not William, you're Spike. You don't need to be liked, 'cause you can bloody well maim an' murder whoever gets on your nerves. Except, well, Buffy was the one who said it. Buffy's the only one who's worth carin' about in this hellhole that you're stuck in, so I guess it matters. Guess you gotta make the boy aware, that the Slayer gives you the green light. Might be fun, actually. Droopy Boy'd hate that more than almost anything._ And if there was one thing Spike did enjoy, it was annoying people. "Slayer said I'm in. Like it or not. She calls the shots." Spike peeked from under his cloak of leather and smirked.

Xander bit back an angry retort. _I'm the heart. I'm the heart of the group, according to my aura, "not exactly super super power" stuff. The heart knows stuff, man... Like it always feels wrong to turn your back on a friend, no matter if she's totally looped, or if she brings a monster over to play. Kinda wish she'd stop doing crap like that. Find someone normal for the party like Rile- oh. Nope, not him. He went psychotic stalker boy and was pretty chips and dip himself, just like the monsters he was hunting._

"You know what? Buffy doesn't call the shots, not like you think she does, like she's the boss. She's a friend. She asks. But yeah, she's the go-to guy. Girl. Person. Whatever! And who does she, the chief of the go-to guys go to? _Me._ Giles. Willow. _You_ come to her. You're in- but you're not like us. You never will be."

Spike snarled softly, ducking into the shade of a tree, stopping, making Xander decide to pause as well. "I don't go to her." It was a lie. But the truth was worse. That he and the Slayer came to each other on a pretty 50-50 basis now. And it was a secret. All of it was a secret. Why we go to each other. What we do when we get together. How the hell do you keep secrets when you all walked around in each other's souls or auras or whatever that joined up thing was? There was stuff they all knew now. Maybe didn't know how to explain, but simply_ knew._

Blue-black eyes met dark hazel. "For someone who doesn't go to her- you sure ran fast to get to her today, Spike." Xander's voice was soft, sibilant, dangerous. "What's your game?"

Spike knew the truth would stun and shock and emotionally sucker punch the boy. But the truth was hinted at and never mentioned. So his smirk merely broadened, cocky, almost leering. "There's a difference between runnin' to someone- and jus' bein' there for them. If there's one thing I'm _damn_ good at- it's stayin'. Not leavin' Jus' bein' there."

Xander gaped momentarily, then snapped his mouth shut as he heard the footsteps of the group coming closer quickly. He'd only had this much time because Buffy wouldn't rush ahead, leave Giles to limp along behind, not until they were far, far away from the baddies. "You think you're her friend or something?"

Spike considered. It was gettin' pretty damn obvious. It was getting obvious they were far more than that, but humans were so excellent at ignoring all the uncomfortable things they wish they didn't have to see... "Yeah. Sorta friends." He shrugged noncommittally and snorted, as if he was making an observation about the weather, not admitting he had some sort of relationship with his sworn enemy, the predator to his prey and the prey to his predator. _So buggered up, so truly buggered up, this whole thing..._

Xander said the third hardest phrase he'd ever had to say, right after "I love you", and "Dad? Half of that Joe Namath signed football you love is now inside the neighbor's dog." "I don't know why- but she sorta seems to be okay with you. Doesn't mean I am."

"Well of course not!" Spike hissed. "I wouldn't go near any of you, 'cept I need to occasionally."

"Exactly! Buffy sometimes needs undead freak support that follows the whole 'takes one to know one' idea." Xander begun running again. Spike zipped ahead of him. "We can still totally hate each other, right?"

"An' never talk about this again?" Spike added.

"Please, God, yes." Xander agreed.

"What are you guys talking about?" Buffy demanded suspiciously.

"Nothing!" Both men chorused.

"Hell." Spike slid into his car with a curse and a groan.

"Crap." Xander leaned on the Citroen with a heated exclamation.

"That's getting freaky." Buffy looked at the two with raised eyebrows.

"You're telling me?" Xander threw his head back and looked at the sky. "Actually- no. Don't tell me. Don't tell me anything."

* * *

><p>The cars pulled up to the dorm parking area with a matched squeal of brakes, and one figure barreled into the building as another barreled out.<p>

"You're alive and not even remotely blobby! Thank God. And thank everything else." Anya tackled Xander and kissed him enthusiastically, blinking back tears. "You're okay..." She breathed.

"Buzzed and wigged, but okay." Xander stroked her hair and replied when she let him up for air.

"That was quite exhausting. But yes, we all managed to survive in an erm- blob-free state."

"And Adam is kaput." Buffy smiled and pushed her sweat streaked hair back. "I took out his battery. Literally. He was a giant demonic Energizer Bunny of badness."

Anya shuddered. "That's the first time you've ever used that word appropriately." She praised after a moment. "How are you two?" She turned to the witches with a rare display of concern. Xander got a look of pride on his face that his girlfriend was showing concern for others. It faded slightly as she said, "I'd expect both of you to be in some kind of coma by now. Channeling that many auras- one is a strain. Oh, and being an anchor for one person is dangerous, being an anchor for six, including old powers, could have been deadly."

"And you're just now mentioning this?" Willow screeched.

"Uh- people freaking out at us in t- minus ten." Xander herded his best friend and his girlfriend inside the dorm as a group of students paused to look at the odd assortment of people on the sidewalk.

"I totally just wiped Adam guts through my hair!" Buffy realized loudly, and a chorus of snickers and whispers erupted in the distance.

"Great, Buff, way to throw off my countdown." Xander muttered over his shoulder, and Buffy sheepishly went inside. Giles brought up the rear, sighing his usual, "How come my life involves all these strange young people?" sigh.

"Come upstairs." Buffy looked around the crowded lobby, filled with people stumbling around in their pajamas as they woke up late, or the conscientious ones rushing around with their book bags and stressed out looks, off to study for finals. "I don't think this is the best place to have a post-slayage meeting.

"No, 'cause for one thing, there're too many soddin' windows." Spike stepped up behind her, emerging from the shadows of the snack machines. He started heading to the stairwell, wincing as he sprang across a patch of sun.

"How is it that Spike knows where your dorm room is?" Giles asked in a voice of quiet puzzlement, not overly alarmed, merely curious.

"Uh-" Buffy felt herself blushing, and saw Spike's spine go rigid as he walked. _He's probably cursing himself. I know _I'd_ like to. Acting like he owns the place..._

"Giles, Spike's been here before. Remember? When he first got the chip, he came here and went all "grrr- ahhhh!" on me?" Willow reminded him, covering for her friend. No one needed to know that Spike had spent the night there at least twice in the past few weeks.

"Yes, of course." Giles nodded wearily.

"Oh, and he was just here today. To get weapons with me." Buffy added, relieved she had such a good excuse. "Plus, during the engagement spell thingy."

"He has an invite?" Xander frowned.

"He's chipped!" Willow poked her friend in the ribs, hard. "Play nice. Buffy needs him right now." She hissed sharply. Xander winced and nodded.

"Guess as long as the bad dog is muzzled, things are cool." Xander said with false heartiness.

"D-don't say that. S-sometimes people can control themselves without anything forcing them. Th-they can choose to- to do what they want." Tara felt more comfortable and connected than ever to these people, but still terrified of talking about her heritage, about the demon blood that hadn't contaminated her yet, just resting in her somehow, but would spring to life in only a few months.

"We're talking about Spike." Xander's eyes widened in disbelief, falling back, letting the vampire and slayer push ahead.

"I know that." Tara quailed, head going down abruptly, studying the grungy carpet of the dorm hallways, bravery deserting her. She was never very good at talking to men, even nice, gentle men like Xander.

"Xander!" Anya barked.

"What? What'd I do?"

"You made Tara do that thing. Where she doesn't look at people."

"I'm sorry. I don't- I wasn't snapping at you, Tara. I think you're awesome, and you're nice. Plus you're really sweet. I just don't think you know Spike like we do. Trying to be killed by a guy gives you some interesting perspectives on him."

"He's saved you as many times as he's tried to kill you." Tara finally whispered, gasped out, feeling like she'd burst or cry if she didn't speak.

"No. But it's getting close to even." Willow realized in shock.

"Just because someone can't hurt you- doesn't mean they have to help you." Anya said firmly. "Trust me. I should know."

"Y'know I can hear all this, right?" Spike turned suddenly, glaring.

"Uh- oops." Willow blushed.

"I'm _not_ a good guy. I'm evil. I'm soulless. I'd bite you if I could." Buffy turned around as well, mouth in a tiny little bubble of shock. "Well- If I _wanted_ to, and I could." Their eyes locked. "Not hungry at the moment."

Silence reigned for a minute, and then Buffy turned away, unlocked the door, and shoved it open. "You might not be hungry, but I bet everyone else is. And I'm covered in Adam ick. Get in."

Giles pushed them all hurriedly into the dorm room, peering anxiously over his shoulder. "None of you have stealth. None." He collapsed on the rolling chair by Willow's desk and dropped the bag he was still carrying with a clunk. "Just a few weapons. The rest are in the boot of the car. Adam may be dead, but the Initiative isn't."

* * *

><p>The Initiative labs lay dark and empty. The nearest military morgue and infirmaries, however, were full. The cells were all but deserted. Signs of slaughter were evident in the halls, the floors, the walls... There was silence for the first time in hours.<p>

But the topic of the Initiative wasn't silenced. Not quite.

* * *

><p><em>Washington, D.C.<em>

"It was an experiment. The Initiative represented the government's interests in not only controlling the otherworldly menace, but harnessing its power for our own military purposes. The considered opinion of this council is that this experiment has failed. Once the prototype took control of the complex, our soldiers suffered a 40 percent casualty rate. Apparently, it was only through the actions of a former agent, an escaped HST, and a group of civilian insurrectionists that our losses were not total. I trust the irony of that is not lost on any of us. Maggie Walsh's vision was brilliant, but ultimately unsupportable. She went beyond military directives, creating an abomination, a danger to our forces. The demons cannot be harnessed. The end result cannot be controlled."

"The council agrees. We await your recommendation."

"Thank you. In light of this morning's fiasco, our recommendation is that this project be terminated and all records concerning it expunged. Our soldiers'll be

debriefed. Standard confidentiality clause. We will monitor the civilians and have the usual measures prepared should they try to go public." The man addressing the council grimly extended his arm and opened his laptop. "A live feed from this morning, 7:45 AM, Pacific time."

The men in the small, darkened conference room watched a few moments of battle, soldiers shooting, demons mauling, both falling in endless scenes of disjointed action. There was a collective gasp in the room as the "prototype" strode in, and in a few moments, the tape switched to another camera angle.

"That's an insurrectionist?" One of the men asked as a small female form came into view.

"That's the former agent." Came the bitter sounding reply. "Watch this."

The men watched, unable to keep their mouths from popping open as the girl seemed to shimmer, deflecting the bullets, going toe to toe with the prototype and winning easily. There was a collective gasp as she plunged her arm through the beast's chest and pulled out his power source in one powerful but effortless looking thrust.

"Now, gentlemen. This fear of going public?" _The girl is a freak. She wouldn't go public. She'd hang herself._

"I don't think they will." The council chair reached over and closed the screen.

"Onto the issue of the site."

"The Initiative itself will be filled in with concrete. Burn it down, gentlemen. Burn it down, and salt the earth." With that statement, the men rose as one, eager to leave this horrible situation behind them.

"The matter is closed."

* * *

><p>"I suppose we may consider the matter closed for the time being." Giles nodded to the group, Xander and Anya snuggling on the floor, Willow and Tara sitting cross-legged on Willow's bed, Buffy pacing restlessly, and Spike slouched against the closet, puffing on an unlit cigarette with pent up energy.<p>

"We should all go rest. Rest." Anya said pointedly. "In bed." She tugged at Xander's elbow.

"A nap would definitely be most welcome. We only had about four hours of sleep." Giles looked at his young helpers, and watched all of them- oh Lord, even Spike and Buffy!- exchange a glance. "Or less, in some cases, I suspect." He rubbed at his scarred temple. "Buffy, will you be alright on your own?"

"I just need to shower the guts off of me before I crash." She gave a fake yawn, but in reality didn't feel sleepy. She felt oddly agitated.

"Two things. We have messages." Willow leaned over her bed and pointed to the flashing buttons. "Do you want me to check?"

"Yeah. I guess we're all okay? Right?" Buffy rubbed her arms, still pacing jumpily. Anya ad Xander were already on their feet and Giles was easing himself up. "No magical aftershocks?"

"No. And honestly, I'm very surprised. Magic of this nature would almost certainly have some sort of side effect." Giles frowned. "Although it could be slow to manifest, or it could simply be this increased sense of alertness. Does anyone else feel that?" Everyone's hand shot up, except for Spike who shrugged moodily. And Willow who's hand shot out, not up.

"Buffy- it's your mom." Willow winced and handed Buffy the phone.

"Mom?" Buffy's eyes widened in panic. "Is she okay?"

"You be the judge." Willow hit the replay button and speaker before setting the phone down.

"Buffy? I just got in, and I saw your note. Buffy Anne Summers, if you don't call me back within the next two hours, I will be over at your dorm. But not before I call the Harrises and the Rosenbergs! And Mr. Giles! You told me to call Anya, but I don't even know where to call her! Don't your new friends have last names? Oh, and what am I supposed to do about Spike? How am I supposed to track him down and make sure he's okay? He doesn't even have an address or a last name or a pulse! But if he went in with you and your note said I could trust him with my li-"

Buffy tackled the phone and slammed it back into the receiver. "Uh. Mom panic." Buffy smiled anxiously.

"Note?" Willow cocked her head.

"I have a last name!" Anya yelped indignantly. "I made it up all by myself!"

"Trust Spike?" Xander and Giles looked shocked.

"I don't want your mum lookin' in on me!" Spike looked terrified. "Last time she knocked me out with a fire ax, an' I wasn't even chipped then! Now she'd chop me into bait!"

"That's not true- that was the_ first_ time, the second and third time you two talked. There was even hot chocolate!" Buffy blurted, a split second before her common sense reminded her she sounded like a girlfriend whining at her boyfriend over mom issues. Apparently her friends realized that as well, exchanging a long look.

Spike glared and hoped she knew it was to cover her ass. "Those were extenuatin' circumstances." He huffed.

"Th-there's another message." Tara hoped to avoid another verbal skirmish.

"Oh joy." Buffy hesitantly pushed the button as she picked up the receiver. This time she kept it to her ear, but Joyce's loud, frantic voice was enough to penetrate the silent room, at least in fragments.

"I'll be cataloguing all day... by noon, I'll call the police... get yourself killed! At least Spike is strong like you, but what about... All of them over here! Call me back."

"From the loud screaming parts, do I gather we're all invited to the casa de Buffy?" Xander smiled.

"Yeah. She's spreading the mom-love around. She won't relax until she's seen all of us got out okay. But no rush. I'll call her back. She's cataloguing all the new stuff she brought this weekend from home, so she'll be around. Everyone probably wants to go do their own thing for a little bit."

"Yes. Our own thing." Anya took Xander's arm with jealous pride.

"I'll call her back. You're all invited over whenever you feel like it." Buffy shrugged.

"Good." Willow bounced off the bed and took Buffy's hands. "Because there's the post-apocalypse ritual to observe. Stress relief. Hysterical giggling, 'cause hey, we're still alive, and the world is so funny when you thought you'd never see it again. And then ice cream."

"Cheesy chips!" Xander added, wrapping an arm around each of them. "And movies. Should I put on my cape and be Captain Blockbuster?"

"You have a cape? Is it with the other outfits?" Anya's eyes lit up. Xander blushed beet red and Spike snickered in the corner.

"Hr-hrm." Giles coughed loudly. "That sounds excellent, and most kind of your mother. Tell her we'll all stop by at some point. Even if it's just for a moment."

Taking their cue to leave, everyone left Buffy's room. It was really seeming to feel that way, that it was solely hers. Especially to the slayer, as she watched Willow and Tara slip out without a second thought. Buffy also watched Spike leave, with a curt nod and without a backwards glance.

* * *

><p>Alone in her room, Buffy called her frantic mother, assured her of everyone's survival, and that they'd all be over at some point in the afternoon.<p>

"What about poor Riley?" Joyce asked as Buffy tried to end the conversation for the fifth time.

"Huh? What about him?" Buffy stopped trying to scrape hardened goo off her shirt and froze.

"There are all these messages from his friend, looking for you. And there's one from him as well, saying to call him back at the hospital." Joyce informed her.

"Oh." Buffy let out a sigh of relief. "He left messages here, too. He's okay. I mean, I got the message. They're all from yesterday, right?"

"Or very early today, around midnight." Joyce replied. "Buffy- I know your private life is- well, it's your private life, but I thought the two of you broke up." Joyce let out a sigh as she finally was able to relax, hearing her daughter's voice, hearing that they were all okay, all these people who'd become part of her new life. She smoothed the note that she'd been clutching tightly for hours, studying one line in particular.

"We did, Mom. We are sooo broken up." Buffy laughed bitterly.

"But he won't leave you alone?" Joyce's voice hardened warningly. No one messed with her only child. She'd sent Angel packing, and he was immortal and psychotic. She'd have no trouble with a little college boy.

"Uh-" Buffy licked her lips and played for time. "Um. Not like you think." _Yes. Exactly like you think, up until about twelve hours ago. He was the definition of obsessed scary stalker ex. But not right now._ "He had information about Adam, the big bad we just took out. Actually," Buffy's voice got softer in reflection, "he probably saved me hours of throwing pointless punches at the guy." She shook herself out of that grateful state. Helpful or not, Riley was the one who'd hurt her, scared Willow and Tara, and stalked Spike for crimes he didn't commit. Helping out in a crisis didn't erase the words he said to her that awful night at Lowell House when she felt broken and guilty. And he piled the shame and anger on...

Buffy's tone became brisk. "He was just trying to help. We're very not together, and we won't be. Ever."

Joyce paused for a moment, nodding to herself, eyes refocusing on the note. "So... who is 'we'?"

" 'Who is we'? The Bad Grammar Family?" Buffy sat down on her bed, completely puzzled, then got off of it with a wince. Her pants were filthy.

"In your note. You say we."

"I did?" Buffy gave herself an angry glare in the mirror._ Good job. Let's get Mom in on the secret, messed up relationship train. Let's say "we" were there, or "we" used the bed and the shower and made out in the kitchen. Crap. Crapcrapcrap_. "I was in a hurry. Wrong pronoun." She covered.

"Buffy..."

"It's not a man, Mom. It was someone who just helped me out with this Adam thing." Technically true. Spike was male, but he wasn't a _man_. Buffy pushed images of his perfectly long enough, just thick enough for her cock sliding in and out of her to the back of her mind as her muscles gave a needy clench. _That's such a lie. He might be a vampire, but oh God is he a man. All man..._Her insides throbbed painfully again.

"Honey, were you and this person-"

"Oh, Mom, gotta go, another call. I'll be over in a couple hours, okay? Love you!" Buffy slammed down the phone and tried to ignore the guilt vibes her mother was broadcasting clear across town.

Buffy sighed heavily. Peace at last.

_So why don't I feel peaceful?_ She rubbed her chest and abdomen with a twitching hand._ I haven't had time alone in weeks._

"I don't want to be alone right now." Buffy peered out the window, peeping through the closed shade. "I didn't think he'd leave. But, what was he gonna do? 'It's okay everyone, you go ahead, I'll stay here alone in Buffy's room.' Yeah, that'd raise the red flags." Buffy fell silent and grabbed her towel and shower caddy with resolute suddenness. Being in here alone wasn't helping. She had to get cleaned up. She had to do - stuff. Anything to stop her from feeling that nagging unease like something was missing.

Buffy opened the door and let out a soft screech as Spike pushed right back through it.

"Had to drive around, since my car was parked next to the old man's. It'd look odd if we didn't all drive off on our merry ways. Then I had to find that sewer entrance close to your dorm, 'cause it's so bloody sunny. Why isn't there ever a nice cloud burst when I've got daylight appointments?" Spike groused, shucking off his coat and pressing into her small, soft form.

"You're back." Buffy kissed him hungrily, a large portion of the unnamed anxiety she felt vacating in his presence.

"Well, yeah, you daft girl. If impendin' death didn't make me clear off, neither are your mates. Except I didn't think it'd look too discreet if everyone else left and I stayed here. Alone with you. In your room." Spike's voice got lower and raspier on each phrase, his kisses trailing down her neck, his hands moving tantalizingly from her waist to her hips. "It hurt bein' away from you jus' now. Still feels- strange. Like someone's tuggin' my arm behind my back. I wanna move, but something still has hold of me."

"I know. We're alone- but we're not by ourselves." Buffy panted as his teeth found her pulse point and his tongue stroked her neck in time with her rapidly beating heart. "I don't want to be by myself anymore." She confessed in a guilty whisper.

"Who does?" Spike pulled away from her neck with an effort, looking into her eyes. "You don't need to be alone. Not with me." They moved back together, moaning softly when flesh met flesh.

"It still feels wrong." Buffy fought his hands off of her buttons. She needed to shower first, then she could give in.

"Right and wrong are dead to us, aren't they, Slayer?"

"Yes. To _us_. I wasn't talking about us. I was talking about the not being by ourselves part, this weird tugging thingy we feel."

"It's gotta be that bloody spell." Spike gave up his search for her zipper after she pushed his hands off for the third time. "We didn't feel the effects straight off 'cause all of us were still together. But now we've separated..."

Buffy nodded and paused. The stress was going away, peace was settling. She felt strangely comforted, even with the constant hum in the back of her mind that something was off. "It's not too bad. Maybe we just need some more time as a group to let the aura joining part of the spell to wear off. We were all together- and then we get slammed back into being separated."

"Somethin' that powerful takes time to build and time to unbind." Spike agreed. "Took Rupert hours to let the gourd 'power up', then we smash it in seconds. Jus' aftershocks, no worries. You'll see your friends an' be fine, Pet."

"I know, you're probably right. Good thing we'll all be at my mom's house eventually."

"What, me too?"

"Yeah, you! She made a point of saying she wanted to see you." Buffy tried to block out her mother's slightly hectoring tone as it echoed in her memory.

Spike heaved a sigh. "No arguing with her, is there?"

"It never ends well." Buffy snuggled into his chest. _Oh God- I snuggle now? With him? Weirdness. What the heck, why not?_

"Guess I have to turn up then. But you let her near me with anything dangerous-"

"Oh, shut up you big baby." Buffy nipped his jaw affectionately, eyes sparking at him.

"Big, yes." Spike lifted his hips to hers. "As for baby- you do tend to call me that when you're-"

"Spike! Stop, I'm covered with battle grime."

"God, yes, talk dirty to me Slayer."

"Why do I put up with you, Gutter Brain?" Buffy frowned, but didn't push him away. She didn't even feel annoyed. She felt- relaxed with him. Good natured acting, more so than she ever had before.

Spike's smirk evaporated, replaced with a softer look. "I think it's 'cause you an' me are more together than you'll ever be with anyone else."

Buffy blinked in shock, mouth hardening. She loved him, but her friends- they'd had years of team work and ups and downs. She and Spike had a few weeks together. They were close in different ways. "That's not true."

"Isn't it? Who -" Spike unconsciously found himself echoing the words of Buffy's slayer side, her power that had spoken to his, "what comforts both your halves?"

"What are you saying? My halves? Comforts? You're a pain in my ass ninety percent of the time!"

"But not today. Today, everyone went with you to the dog an' pony show. All our human bits flockin' around your aura or your soul, whatever it was, to give you that boost. But _I'm_ the only one who joined up with the Chosen part of you. I fight with you- an' I hold you back from destroyin' yourself. I'm the dark to your light, an' the water to your flame, Luv." He stroked a stained lock of hair back from her face. "You an' me, we feel things twice as much, an' a damn good thing we have double the comfort."

Buffy swallowed hard, breathing becoming suddenly irregular. "I still need a shower. First."

"Think I'll wait here. Get m'self comfy." _Think about you, think about what I'm gonna do to show you just how 'together' we can be._

Buffy pulled away slowly, like honey leaving the comb. "I don't want to stay too long. Here. Alone. I mean, I do. But Mom is in major meltdown mode. And- there's one other thing I want to do. Plus, it's a Scooby thing. We hang after crises." She twisted her hands nervously. "All of us together. Always."

With Spike she'd been selfish for the first time in her life, having a secret that wasn't noble, that wasn't good, that simply made her own pain lessen. The Chosen One was a hero and she was meant to suffer, save, then die young. With Spike, Buffy'd finally been able to reconcile the fact that her life was going to be crap, and she'd better enjoy the uncrappy parts, wrong or not. Being alone with him- it was selfish. It was breaking tradition. It was turning into something she couldn't imagine living without.

"Shh, Luv." Spike soothed her intuitively. "You'll see 'em. You're not turnin' your back on 'em. That's one thing you'd never, ever do. Even Green an' Ugly knew that. Knew they were your biggest asset. You're not leavin' 'em on their own, you're jus' delayin' the reunion."

"You think?" Buffy bit her lip.

"They don't want to be disturbed jus' now anyway." Spike smiled naughtily. "Demon Girl looked like she might not even make it to the boy's basement. Ten to one, that car is pulled over somewhere on the side of the road."

"Spike! Sick!"

"True though?"

Buffy blushed. "Maybe." She sighed. "Well- I guess no one will be in too much of this karma-separation pain. Everyone still has someone with them to stave off the lonelies." She thought suddenly of her faithful Watcher, her surrogate father. "Almost everyone."

* * *

><p>Giles felt unwarranted energy besieging him, getting worse the farther he was from his friends. Yes Rupert, marvelous. You're on your own, and your friends are all children or centuries old beings.<p>

The spell pulled on him, tugged at him. Tired as he was, he wouldn't be able to sleep, or rest. Not until he saw them again. The essences had been so painstakingly fused, then torn asunder so quickly, violently. It was only natural. Magic took time to work itself out. "At least Willow and Xander won't feel it as acutely. They have someone with them. But Buffy. And- yes, I suppose even Spike. They'll feel this- tension." He sighed and pulled into the car park outside the flats. He rested his head on the seat and tried to let the thoughts pooling in his head escape. They wouldn't.

_Buffy. Spike. Alone. Or not. I don't really give a bloody damn right now. As long as all of us just get some quiet before we explode..._

* * *

><p>"It was explosive. Amazing." Willow slowly slid out of her top.<p>

"It was exhausting." Tara corrected, eyes heavy lidded and skin paler than usual.

"I feel- connected. Better than ever. Closer. To you. To everyone. But mainly to you." Willow kissed her sweetheart's lips and stroked her fingers through the ash blonde hair. "Like you're still inside me. Like I'm inside you." She whispered.

"You are. You always will be." Tara whispered. "No matter what." She held her tightly, chest heaving as the bond intensified, the closer they got to each other.

"I want that. I want to be in you, around you. Joined to you."

"Aren't you tired?" Tara felt her own top sliding over her shoulders.

"Not too tired for this." Willow nibbled Tara's lips and they fell onto the bed, giggling and sitting up. Face to face and wrapped together, legs over or under hips, fingers able to slide up and in, teasing one another, that was how the two fairly inexperienced women had found was the best, most intense way to consummate their union. "I wish I could be in you. Like- I don't know. More."

"They m-make stuff for that." Tara blushed scarlet. Willow's cheeks flamed as well. "I just don't-" She fought down a rising moment of panic, someone else's hands, not gentle, something else inside, not teasing, " I just don't usually-"

"Shhh. Shh." Willow's eyes suddenly brimmed over. "You don't have to say anything. I already know." She'd known since the week after Buffy and Spike got caught in Lowell House. When Tara said there was a survivor's group. When she'd said sometimes people wanted to talk about it and sometimes they didn't. Tara was someone who didn't.

Tara swiped her wrist across her eyes. "It's not fair to you."

"It is! It's totally fair to me. What isn't fair- is that someone hurt my baby." Willow cupped her cheeks. Tara looked startled and Willow soothed. "Honey, you don't have to tell me about it. Just know that's never going to happen again. You're one of us now. No one gets hurt. Not without all us fighting tooth and nail to make it stop before it starts."

"Wh-what if I'm not everything you want? They want. What if I d-don't really fit?" Tara met her eyes timidly.

"You do fit!"

"But if I didn't? If I were- bad?"

"Being hurt doesn't make you bad."

"Being who you are can make you bad." Tara whispered, wincing as her father's raging voice penetrated the safety net she'd carefully built at college, built while she was away from him. "I know sometimes I s-say that you have a ch-choice, but-"

Willow's eyes flickered from their normal green to a dark, violent emerald. "I don't care who you are or what you do. You're Tara and I love you. You make you what you are. You do choose."

"But some people-"

"Anya and Spike are in this group. You don't get badder than a thousand year old ex- vengeance demon and a legendary vampire who kills slayers and drives railroad spikes into people for fun."

"That's how he got the name?" Tara looked faint.

"Yeah. So- you keep telling me that people can choose. You choose. Whatever anyone ever told you or whatever anyone ever made you believe, Baby. You _choose_ what to believe about yourself."

"You can believe lots of pretty l-lies." Tara heard her brother's voice, from a long time ago. Lecturing, about demon blood killing her mother, killing all the women if they fought their place, riled up the evil inside. Her denials. His warning, "You can believe all the pretty lies you want, Tara girl, the truth is still gonna come out when you're the right age..."

Willow looked at her quizzically. "This isn't a lie. You telling me stuff, and me telling you stuff? It's all true. And it's easier than ever before. Because we're part of each other. We were together in our souls, Sweetie. I don't need to be in you more than that. And I don't need to know what happened, why you feel bad or good." Willow swallowed painfully, brushing Tara's tears away, kissing the salty tracks across her cheeks. "People can choose. People can change. All they need is someone to believe in them."

"And you...?" Tara gasped out.

"Believe in you with all my heart."

* * *

><p>"You love me with all of your heart?" Anya demanded.<p>

"Yep." Xander panted, crashing back against the mattress of his foldout bed, ignoring the squeaks.

"Then why are you still thinking about all of the others?"

"Huh?"

"You're not focusing on me and our making love." Anya wrapped her ruby red lips around his finger and sucked.

"I'd like to beg to differ." Xander said in a voice of strangulated pleasure. Whoa, what a mouth.

"Oh, that's your penis. Your penis always thinks about sex."

"Not- always. A lot. A whole lot, but... wait, why are we talking about this? I thought we were going to celebrate coming home from mega battle badness in one piece. As in_ one_ piece, Xander only, Xander sans blobby aura people."

"We were!" Anya pouted and sat up, finger trailing along the line of her cleavage. "But you still want them. I can feel it. You like the blobby aura people."

"I don't!"

"You do. You're humming with energy and you're all anxious and twitchy. You're thinking about them. Not about me." She glared into his eyes, pout deepening.

"Right now, Ahn, believe me, I am _only_ thinking about you."

Anya paused, looking into his eyes. "You'd never pick me over them." She murmured.

Xander reached up and caressed her cheek. "You know what? You're right. I don't pick. I want it all."

"You liked being with them, knowing what it was like. That rush." Anya smiled wistfully. "I used to get that rush. Of course- I was on the evil team, but-"

"Anya, Babe, listen to me. The whole time I was getting that Slayer-rush and feeling this amazing power-" Xander stopped his enthusiastic reminiscing as Anya's petulant expression turned dangerous, "the whole time I was worried sick. What if I didn't get back to you?"

"Really?" She asked suspiciously.

"Yes! I love being connected to my friends, but I love being an individual person, too." He grinned up at her, wide, honest eyes melting her hardened heart. "I don't wanna share you with anyone. A guy can have lots of friends, be in the group, but there're some things you wanna do solo. Like be with you. That's something I love that's just us. You and me."

"Really?" Anya leaned down to him, gently stroking his brow.

"Really." Xander kissed her and smiled into her eyes. "You're my girl."

* * *

><p>"That's my girl." Spike beamed up at her with self-satisfaction etched on his features. Buffy's scream echoed softly in the shadowy bedroom, and she whimpered as his fingers replaced his talented tongue.<p>

"What the hell do you _do_ down there?" Buffy panted.

"Make you cum." He pumped in and out rapidly, finding her quivering, pulsing internal trigger, bringing her close to a second before she even finished her first.

"Duh. But- that was soo, soo good." She laughed weakly.

"Adrenaline rush. All the juices pumping. Blood pumping." His nostrils flared and he vamped, then his face melted down to his chiseled human features again. "An' I was hungrier."

"Oh God... can we pretend you're not 'eating' me while you're 'eating' me?" Buffy sat halfway up.

"You don't like lyin', not when it's just the two of us." Spike slid his fingers out, licking them slowly, right in front of her eyes, cooly meeting her gaze. "Slayer likes it, doesn't she?"

Buffy swung her ankle sharply into his hip. "Don't push your luck."

"I will. You don't mind. You like it." Spike eased down on her, letting her control him, her hands on his arms, tracing him from shoulders to elbows, that lost, but waiting to be found expression in her eyes.

"I never said that."

"You don't have to. But's okay. We all have our kinks, Baby."

Buffy's fingers turned to steel and Spike yelped, head thrashing down in unexpected pain. "It's not a kink!" Spike just gasped and Buffy let go guiltily.

"No. No no. You go hard as you like, that's why we're suited, Luv." Spike rammed into her harder than usual, always with a hint of trepidation, always wondering if one day he'd misjudge and get himself shocked into oblivion in the middle of a shag.

"I like it because it's wrong, but it's not bad." Buffy glared at him. "And yeah, I know we don't do right and wrong, but you do need blood, and once a month I can give you that. No one dies from it. No one hurts because of it. Once a month- you can be who you are, and still be good." They exchanged a shocked look. "Sorry. I know. You're bad. Mr. Bad of Bad Incorporated." She sighed.

Spike rested his head over hers, thoughts churning, jaw working. "You wanna add another secret to the pile, Pet?" He finally whispered.

"Hm?" She made a small uncertain noise.

"Once in awhile- I'd be good. For you."

Buffy wriggled under him, making their eyes meet, her own small jaw clenching and unclenching in tension. "Once in awhile, Spike- I'd be bad for you, too."

Stunned, he shook his head. "You don't have to say things like-"

She halted his words. "I don't want to be alone again. Been such a long time." Only- it hadn't really. A few months at most. Yet, she was sure that she meant those words.

Like half remembered dreams, both of them felt a little prickling of memory, conversations they'd had but not in this reality. "Then we'll be together. Not alone. Didn't we already talk about this?"

Buffy paused. Yes. Sure. In so many ways. But there was some conversation missing, something missing that she couldn't place. Still- with Spike, you didn't need to say everything. You didn't need to say anything.

So she kissed him instead, not speaking.

_To be continued..._


	23. Chapter 23

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: Hints of taboo-ish stuff. I told you, and you know what I mean, so skim if this bothers you. _

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Lithium Reaper, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, MedusaMyLove, MMWillow, omslagspapper, Brittanyr1221, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Starscape91, lil-leti, nosurprises, Spike'smate, Nos, and Edward Cullen brings sexy back._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXIII

"Can't you sleep?" Spike watched the woman beside him toss and squirm as they lay together after their coupling. Finally, after about five minutes of it, she regretfully sighed and got up.

"No, can you?" Buffy headed to her closet and began rummaging for a clean outfit.

"Don't seem to be able to." Spike rolled over and propped himself on his elbow, abs rippling, making her momentarily stop her search for clothing. He licked his lips and she turned away."Not a bit. Need a smoke. Need a kill. Need somethin'. Antsy. High on you." Spike grinned smugly and stretched as he got out of bed, sauntering to her.

Buffy blushed and began to dress, began to get ready to go out, and paused, knowing he was watching her, watching her do something private. She clutched her little cardboard and cotton cylinder and hid it from his eyes. "Spike, turn around!"

"I was gonna help." Spike sounded offended and injured, stepping away from her and turning his face to the door.

Buffy took care of the intimate detail that was bothering her, and slid her underwear on before speaking to him again. "Guys don't help girls with that."

"I'm not a normal 'guy'."

"So true." She sighed in pretend annoyance. Okay, and maybe a little real annoyance, too.

"I dunno why you have to wear that nasty little thing. I'd keep you spotless, in an' out." Spike lit a smoke and turned back around, watching her finish dressing. He reached for his own clothes.

"Not unless you just sit between my legs all day, lapping like a-"

Spike let out a low growl, a lust noise. "Go on. Finish the thought, Pet."

"It- nothing." Buffy shook her head stubbornly. Receiving oral sex for three days straight, from Spike, god of naughty kinky pleasure and passionate lovemaking, would have been amazing. And wrong. And good. Crud. Mental tangle. There so needed to be a law against thinking yourself into corners.

"How about you don't wear it when we're together." Spike pressed close to her, stroking one knuckle across her breast and down to her hip.

"You're a freak."

"If I dripped chocolate ice cream for a couple days a month, an' I wouldn't share- wouldn't you get a bit pouty?" Spike pulled her bottom lip with his own teeth.

Spike covered in chocolate ice cream. Oh God, give her strength, and maybe a chastity belt. "Never mind. Point taken. When we're making love, I'm all yours."

Spike hadn't expected that outcome, so easily given, almost playful, relaxed. He laughed against her. "You're quite a girl. C'mon then. Let's see if the Slayer juice is enough to help me fend off your mum."

"You are _not_ to tell her you've had Slayer juice. Or Slayer. Or anything that sounds like having! Having of me is bad! Fire ax, dusty in a pink urn bad!" She warned him in a high-pitched frenzy.

"East, easy! I'm a bit twisted, what with carrying on with the object of my seething hatred an' all- but I'm not mental. I won't say anything to your mum about _anything_. An' the sooner I get there, the sooner I can clear off."

"Yeah... I just have one more place to stop first, okay?"

"Please tell me it's the liquor store?"

"Uh. No." Buffy didn't meet his eye and hurriedly grabbed her purse. "You don't have to come."

"I will, unless you don't want me there." Spike put his coat and looked at the closed curtain, judging the position of the sun from what he could feel hitting this portion of the dorm.

"I don't think you'll want to be there. But I'll be in and out in five minutes. Is your car still here?"

"No, it's off campus by a couple blocks, the street nearest the cafeteria, used a grate down that way." He looked at her suspiciously. "Slayer- where're we goin'?"

"Sunnydale Memorial Hospital." Buffy answered in a brisk but breathless voice, still not looking at him.

Spike's eyes widened and he bit back a shouted barrage of insults. "Bollocks." He finally seethed, and followed her out the door.

The pair was silent until they reached the sewer tunnel entrance and Spike had to make a mad dash to it. He assumed the girl would meet him at the car, but to his amazement, she followed him down, wincing and picking up her feet like a cat in water. "It's not for waste anymore, jus' rain water." Spike muttered gruffly. "Why don't you go topside, meet me at the car?"

"Because I wouldn't be with you and I want to be with you." She replied in a much sweeter voice, but with that same blunt tone.

"Is that so?" Spike looked down at her. "So why are we visiting Soldier Boy?"

"To thank him for calling me and giving me the tip about the off switch on the big evil monster thingy we killed."

Spike took her hand suddenly, in an almost painful grip. "He got his chip out. He's not that aggressive, crazy wanker anymore, but he's still a wanker, Slayer."

Buffy almost yanked her hand away, sheer gut reaction to being pulled against her will- only Spike wasn't her enemy anymore- exactly, and he wasn't going to force her to hold his hand. He had never forced her to do anything but lose her temper. She tugged his hand into a softer grip, walking closer to him. "I don't think he's a wanker. But he's a jerk. Mainly because isn't a wanker a guy who..." She blushed and trailed off.

"Has to use his hand for company." Spike laughed in the darkness. "An' if he wasn't a wanker before, he will be now. With you gone." His shoulders tensed, secret fears nibbling away at the peace she'd so recently given him. "Unless you figure, what with him bein' back to normal now, that you'd-"

"Are you crazy!" Buffy demanded in a high pitched yelp. She punched his arm hard. "Were you seriously jealous? Or worried I'd leave you? You bastard, I _love_ you!" She punched him again, hard.

Spike's mouth hung open for a minute, then turned into a broad, cocky grin. "Love me, do you?"

"Erggggh! Yes! With a side order of hate your smug guts." She glared up at him as he put his arm across her shoulders. "I figured you'd be mad about me going to see him, because he's been a total poop head lately, but I didn't think you'd be _stupid_ enough to think I'd go running back to him! Spike-" She faltered, and found strength in the way his arm tightened around her, his head tilted to hers like she was the only thing in the world worth listening to. "Spike- Riley made me feel things no one else made me feel. Bad things. That night, after the frat party gone wrong." She gave him a shaky smile and loved the menacing rumble of a growl that came from Spike's chest. He was mad on her behalf, and it made her feel like she had something better than just a lover, she had a friend. A weird, jerky friend, but a loyal one, mad at whoever or whatever she was mad at.

"You broke his jaw for that." Spike praised softly.

"I know. I broke it twice in two weeks, and if we'd met up again, probably a third." She laughed hollowly. "My point was- he might have had a chip, and I don't know exactly who controlled it or for how long- but it was just Riley himself saying all those things to me that night. I might thank him for his help, I might even forgive him. But I'll never go back to that. Love hurts, love is messy, and it's okay if lovers don't always treat you right." She voiced the shared conclusions she and Spike had come to that night, when they finally started to see just how much they had in common. "But I know that no one gets to make me feel like he did. No one will ever do that again."

Spike's growl played on and off for a minute as they walked in the tunnel, arms around each other. "I treat you alright, don't I?" He finally asked.

Buffy blinked in surprise. She'd never considered that. She'd never considered either, if she treated _him_ right. They were just - there for each other. "I- yeah. Yeah, you do. You treat me how I want to be treated." Spike grinned and hummed. "Spike?"

"Yes, Heart?"

Buffy's knees went wobbly. She loved that nickname. So new, and only for her, not casual like "Luv" or "Pet", although she didn't object to those anymore. But Heart was better. Heart was vital. Can't live without one, not even vampires could exist without that. He couldn't live without her. Ergo- no leaving.

"Buffy?"

"Sorry, zoned out." Buffy laughed. "Do I treat you how you want to be treated?"

Spike considered. "Hmm. I'd like you to compliment my superior knowledge more often-" Buffy snorted and laughed, trying to mask it with a cough. He groaned. "But since you're a complete airhead half the time-"

"Hey!"

"Yes, Baby. You treat me good in all the ways it matters. An' I don't want to lose it. Don't think I could take that." He gave her a crooked smile, which she returned, blushing a little.

The grate they needed appeared, and Spike gave her a boost, then she pulled him through after her. They scurried to the car and Spike hissed as he slid into his seat. "Bloody sun." He sucked on the hand he'd used to open the door handle. Buffy said nothing. "That's another thing I'd like." He put the car into gear. "Bit more sympathy for the injured man."

Buffy looked into the obscured windscreen and whispered, "You thought I might leave you, for him?"

Spike shifted uncomfortably. "He isn't evil. Not like me. An' the boy did just get a wake up call. Prolly kickin' himself for ever lettin' you get away..."

Buffy sighed deeply. "You're stupid."

"Takes one to know one, Cutie."

"I already chose you over him. Twice." Buffy whispered.

"But third time's the charm. Can't help it, alright? You think you know someone, you live with 'em for a century, they fuckin' _make_ you, and then they leave you for someone they jus' met. You an' the boy have history, short an' not too promisin' though it is. We've got weeks, not years. Before that- I wouldn't say our 'relationship' was too cozy. Jus' wouldn't be surprised if you were considering the options."

Privately, Buffy saw all the points he was making. In fact, she'd already made all those points to herself, already wondered how what they made in such a short space of time could compare with years Spike had with Dru, with the tortured "big love" she'd had with Angel. But outwardly she muttered, "You're more insecure than you let on, you big pretender."

"Again- takes one to know one."

"Touché." Buffy took his hand softly.

"Nice. Didn't think you could use French, the way you mangle English."

"Don't change the subject."

"Sorry." He squeezed her hand.

"If the third time's the charm- then you don't have long to wait. I'm going to pop in, talk to him, come right back to you. You can come in if you want, but-"

"No." Spike shook his head. "Don't want to deal with him. An' I don't think you owe him any thanks. Must be a good guy thing, givin' back more than you're owed. He caused you more grief in a couple weeks than I did in a couple years."

"Uh- _no_." Buffy laughed. "But in the recent weeks competition, yeah, he's the winner in the making me crazy category. Bad crazy. Good crazy is all you." She laid her head against him and let out a tired sounding breath. "It won't be like the last time I told you to wait for me. This time I'll come out in ten minutes. If I don't-"

"Check the vending machines?"

"I was going to say come upstairs and make sure Riley hasn't snapped back into psycho ex mode."

"Hell- maybe I oughta just come in." Spike groaned pulling into a shady part of the hospital lot.

Buffy bit her lip. "You be the back up. In case. But don't worry- nothing bad is going to happen, and I'm going to come right back out to you. Besides- if I were in trouble, you'd know 'd feel it." She grinned. "Aura stuff."

"Right you are then, Luv. Give him hell."

"I will not! Unless he's a jerk." Buffy hopped out of the car and dashed into the building, eager to get this awkward moment over with.

* * *

><p>"You big, big jerk." Buffy whispered to the unconscious form on the hospital bed. "I had to walk on the outside of a window ledge to get into this room. You have more guards than the president- and you're asleep. You jerk." Buffy hid behind the curtain surrounding the bed, even though Riley was in a private room. It wasn't the potential roommates she was worried about, it was the big armed men at the door, and the nurses who'd flatly told her Mr. Finn couldn't have visitors.<p>

"They kept Buffy out, but no one can really keep out a Slayer. As you'll find out. When you wake up. You are going to wake up, right?" Buffy bit her lip, and tentatively reached for his bandaged arm, stopping short of touching him. She looked around the room for something that would give her a clue as to how bad he was. X-Rays hung over the bed and charts full of gibberish hung on the metal frame. "Riley?" She hissed. He stirred and she backed up hastily. "Okay... not too far out of it."

She surveyed him. He looked like hell, and that was polite. He probably needed his rest. Grappling with the decision to wake him up or let things go unsaid, maybe forever, she paused, resting on her haunches by his bedside for a few minutes. "Compromise time." She tore a blank sheet off the back of one of the clipboards and took the attached pen, licking her lips as she tried to think what to say.

" 'Cause we all know how well a note worked earlier today..."

Riley woke up when the sound of a slam startled him. He jerked awake and wished he hadn't. Movement was agony. Heck, even being awake was agony. Civilian meds weren't nearly as good as army stuff. Of course, army stuff could play with your head if your former C.O. had decided to mess with your dosages and fill you full of chips and steroids...

"Ohhh." He moaned, blinking against the light. He'd thought that shade was closed. Light was torture to his now normally responding pupils. He began to reach for the call button and stopped as his palm swam in front of his eyes, blurry white paper shoved into his fist. Blinking for focus, he managed to unfold it, and hold it near his taped up face.

_Riley,_

_I'm sorry about the broken bones and stuff. Thanks for the tip off- we won. You helped. You're still a jerk, but you helped._

_About other non-battle things- I know you loved me. I'm sorry I didn't love you back. I couldn't. I can't. I know we can't ever be friends, either. I don't think either of us would want that, it's just too- yerggh. You know?_

_You aren't a bad guy. I know you only did what you thought was right. Doing the right thing isn't easy, and ... and I guess I'm glad to know there are guys out there who try to do the right thing. But do it someplace far, far away from me, okay?_

_Buffy_

Riley breathed painfully. Thinking clearly for the first time in days, he was able to process more. It was over. Over and part of it was his fault. Buffy wasn't evil, and she had made bad choices, but so had he.

Everyone was to blame and no one was to blame. It was this sick town, full of monsters and devils. He'd be away from it as soon as he could, he could probably request a medical discharge after all of these injuries, be gone in weeks, at least to another base.

_Things happened. Man, I don't even know everything that happened, so much is like watching a tape in fast forward. But she's just a girl. And whatever else she is, she's a good guy._

Riley's thoughts were rudely interrupted by the blaring of the hospital's loudspeaker system. "Will the owner of a vintage model DeSoto, black body and painted windshields please remove it from the blue zone in front of the main entrance? I repeat, would the owner of a black, vintage, DeSoto with body damage and painted windshields please remove -"

Riley groaned and winced. "She's still with him? God..." He closed his eyes and reconsidered his thoughts on the nature of Buffy Summers. Eventually, decided she wasn't evil. But she had a crappy taste in men. HST 17 was _certainly_ evil, and that chip didn't hold forever. _Maybe I should try to warn her. Yeah, that'll work just great, 'cause it's not like she has a blind spot about him or anything._

_Maybe I'll just take care of him before I leave town. I don't even have to kill him, since she'd probably hunt me down and kill _me_ if I did that. I could just make him leave town. She'll be better off if he leaves her alone. Permanently._

* * *

><p>"For the record- this car is very not where I left it." Buffy slid into the seat and the car skidded away before the door was even closed. "They were about to send security out here, they were making announcements over the intercom and everything!"<p>

"Yeah well, for the record- you were gone for almost half an hour. Plus- free blood in there, human, and donated. Legal yummies."

"You can have legal yummies for the next three or four days, don't get greedy and law-breaking-y." Buffy buckled up as the car squealed from the lot. "They have him under guard. Actually 'under guard', with actual guards!"

"I'm not surprised." Spike muttered. "One murmur and the secret government operation is headline news. How'd you get in?"

"I snuck into the room next to his, and crawled across on the ledge. Oh- tip- never wear narrow heeled boots for window ledge walking."

"Heavens, no, it'd clash with m'purse." Spike rolled his eyes. "So... what'd he say?"

"Let me see. I think it went 'Urgh', 'uhh', and 'mm?'." Spike looked enraged and Buffy slapped his arm lightly. "He was asleep! I'm a one man woman anyway." She blushed. "I left him a note. A 'thank you slash I hope I never see you again' type of deal."

Spike chuckled then looked abashed. "Sorry. I'm not the controlling type- but jealous and possessive- a bit."

"No, I never noticed that." She feigned amazement. "You haven't been like that with me. And you shouldn't start. It pisses me off."

"I think I'm done now. You sent both of the recent exes packing. I'm the one with the in these days."

Buffy nodded. "But- we don't have to tell anyone about that, right?"

"I won't say anything. Doesn't mean they won't notice." He looked at her sideways. "If they call you on it?"

Buffy twisted her fingers nervously for a few seconds. "I don't know what I'd say. Or do. About them, that is. But I know where I'll be tonight."

"My place?"

"Or mine. With you. That's all that really matters, right?" Spike shocked her by pulling her fiercely to him, hand tangled in the hair on the back of her head, kissing her hard, inhaling her, as they paused at a red light.

"Yeah, Heart." He released her. "That's what really matters."

* * *

><p>"All that matters is that you're all okay!" Joyce clasped her child to her chest and blinked hurriedly at the ceiling.<p>

"All of us are just fine, Mom and- oh. In the living room already." Buffy waved over her mother's shoulder at all of her friends who were already draped over the sofa and armchairs.

"Anyone else not able to sleep? I tried, but man, I'm wired." Xander sat with Anya in his lap, tapping the floor with his foot and drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair.

"His stamina was incredible. Still- the constant twitching is getting irritating." Anya patted his shoulder in concern.

Joyce gave Buffy a pointed look and didn't release her.

"We're all fine- aside from acting like we each drank an entire pot of coffee." Buffy smiled sheepishly and finally managed to pry her mom off.

"It's the uh- side effects of the spell." Giles coughed. Joyce glared daggers at him. He subsided at once.

"Rupert Giles, have you been giving these children- magic herbal things?" She hissed.

"No!"

"Geez, no!" Willow defended her former crush and current favorite male role model. "Mrs. Summers, it was totally just a spell. A necessary one! No one ingested or inhaled anything. It's just exhausting. All of us being joined together-"

"What?" Joyce gasped. "All of you- together- what?" She looked clearly horrified.

"Not physically. Spiritually." Anya said soothingly. "No sex magik. It's not as fun as you'd think, anyway, 'cause you have to keep stopping, remembering to say the right words at the right-"

"Anya, Sweetie, I beg you. Shut up." Xander squeezed her tight and growled in exasperation.

"Seriously, Mom, it was just exhausting. A big battle and a big whammy from the spell. I think we're all going to just decompress now that we're together and we can relax."

"The spell relied heavily on creating a bond to support Buffy, to empower her even more than her preternatural abilities already do. Everyone had to be extremely connected, moving and acting as one. Mentally and physically taxing, but I assure you- perfectly clean and not at all illicit." Giles stood and spoke to Joyce in his best calming tone with a small, polite smile on his face.

Joyce softened. "I'm sorry. It's that maternal instinct. I'm sure everyone else's mother acted the same?"

"Dead." Anya volunteered.

"On her third martini already." Xander raised his hand. "She thought I'd been home all morning. Surprised the heck out of her when we came in."

"At a conference on the psychological dynamics of successful families." Willow tilted her head. "Kinda ironic."

"Also deceased." Giles murmured, just because he thought he ought to join in.

"G-gone." Tara whispered.

"Gone." Spike mumbled, from the corner of the hall where he'd stood in the shadow, unmoving since he first arrived.

Joyce's jaw set. Buffy's trembled, and she hugged her mother again, realizing how lucky she was, all things considered.

"Well. That makes me den mother. Who wants soda and salty things? I shop when I'm nervous and I think I bought the entire junk food aisle today."

"I love this woman." Xander grinned and hoisted himself from the chair. "I have movies!"

"Could I get some tea?" Giles pleaded.

"We'll help." Tara and Willow spoke as one.

In his corner, Spike snorted.

"Is he staying?" Joyce hissed as Buffy prodded her towards the kitchen.

"He helped." Buffy hissed back. "Don't worry about him, he's fine."

"Oh, I know, he's mostly talk, but-"

"How can you say he's mostly talk? He's one of the most vicious vampires in recent history." _Totally not helping myself here. Why do I say things? Anything?_

"Yes, but he's very honest." Joyce shuffled around the pantry. "Very open, heart on his sleeve."

"How do you know- oh, right, you guys talked."

"Is he a good vampire now?"

"No!" There was a chorus from everyone, loudest from Spike.

"Bloody hell, you save people a few times an' instantly they start thinkin' you're good." Spike groused, finally stepping into the kitchen behind the rest of the pack.

"No one thinks that." Willow found she was speaking in a comforting tone, that surprised herself. "We all know you're vicious, ruthless, and bad."

"Ta' Red." Spike beamed at her.

"But he's helpful and supportive and he and Buffy have bonded." Anya piped up cheerfully. "So you don't need to kill him, Mrs. Summers."

"Bonded?" Joyce put on water for tea and offered Giles a few boxes of tea bags to choose from. "Bonded in what way?"

The kitchen cleared out rapidly. Xander scooped all the bags of snack food into his arms and said hastily, "Wills, grab some bowls. Gee, I'd better go cue up the movie, right? I mean, who wants to sit through a FBI warning?" He fled.

"Bonding. Battlefield camaraderie." Anya, after receiving a multitude of death stares realized she'd said the wrong thing and hightailed back to the living room with two six packs of soda.

"I'll be back when the kettle's boiled. Buffy, dear, come show me where-"

"She'll be with you in just a minute, Rupert." Joyce smiled grimly at her daughter, and Spike, who were slinking away.

"Mom-"

"Look, Joyce, your daughter an' me fight the same people now. I can't hurt humans and I gotta fight somethin'. Frankly, killin' demons is far more preferable in terms of fight. I mean humans, it's just grab, scream, die."

"Not helping." Buffy muttered angrily from the side of her mouth as Joyce crossed her arms protectively.

"We fought shoulder to shoulder a lot lately. Come to- _appreciate_ her in new ways."

"He's just been less of a jerk." Buffy added. The two shared a crooked smile in spite of their protective maternal audience.

"If you're evil- why do you help her? Even if you can't hurt Buffy, you don't have to help her." Joyce pointed out.

"Uhhh." Buffy fumbled, but Spike shrugged easily.

"_Passions i_s over by late afternoon, an' then what am I gonna do 'til the next episode? Might as well kill things, keep 'em off my turf and gets me in good with the local white hat gang." He jerked his head to the living room.

"You watch _Passions_?"

"It's my only soap."

"Mine, too!"

"Is it? Look, I missed an episode last week, can you-"

"Which day? Did you see Friday's?"

"With the robbery?"

"And the baby?"

"What baby?"

"You didn't see that! I'll make you hot cocoa and we'll catch up."

"You're a luv, Joyce. It'll have to be the type in the packet, you're out of milk."

"I got another gallon at the store."

Joyce bustled in the kitchen, and Buffy dragged Spike back into the dining room with a frantic whisper.

"What are you doing?"

"Discussin' the only decent program on telly."

"No! Not that, although frankly, I'm really grossed out that you and my mom are into the same soap opera, but I meant the milk!"

"The milk?"

"You told her we were out of milk! How did you know that, huh?"

"Easy, you used the last of it on that macaroni out of a box thing."

"Yes, but how come _you_ know that, genius?"She shook him by his sleeve, eyes giving him third degree burns.

Spike's eyes widened. "I could've just- um-"

"See?" She smacked his arm.

"I think you're overreacting."

"I'm not. I slipped first." She whispered apologetically. "I put 'we' in my note, and my mom thinks maybe I had someone with me in the house now. I told her it wasn't a man. 'Cause technically..."

"Not a man? Need another reminder, do you?" He purred, leaning closer.

Buffy found herself leaning into him as well, looking at him through half-closed eyes, temporarily forgetting where she was and what she was doing. _Like being in love, all you want is to be near him. Oh God. I'm in love. That's so bad. But so good._ "Spike, I-"

"Spike? How did you know I was out of milk?" Joyce's voice caused the two of them to spring hastily apart.

"I told him." Buffy blurted.

"She told me." Spike backed up.

"Why?"

"Bonding?" Buffy squeaked with a tentative shrug.

"Oh, Buffy, honestly, you two aren't-" The shrill whistle of a tea kettle cut her off. "Don't move. Either of you."

"I got a new plan if anyone asks us anything, 'specially your mum." Spike urgently grabbed Buffy's elbow and jerked her head close to his whispering lips.

"What?" Buffy nodded eagerly.

"Deny everything, change the subject, an' run like hell."

"Love it. Totally the plan." Buffy stepped away from him again, before her mother could return. Giles walked in and gave them a curious look.

"Tea's up." Spike gestured to the kitchen.

"Thank heavens. I finally feel as though I'm able to relax." Giles laughed softly and patted Buffy's shoulder.

"You brought _Full Metal Jacket_ and _Apocalypse Now_?" Willow cried. "Xander!"

"I thought they were appropriate!"

"How are those appropriate?" Tara sounded like she might laugh or scream.

"War is hell- but this is the Hellmouth, and this little war was worse in some ways, with demons and fighting to assist our own government in a war they created amongst themselves... Dude, work with me here! See the symbolism!"

Anya sighed proudly. "His parents think he's stupid. He's brilliant. Just not bookish. More rugged. I love rugged."

"Excuse me." Buffy walked into the living room, and Spike walked into see Joyce, squaring his shoulders and looking careless.

Joyce didn't get to talk to Spike about the likelihood of him being half of the "we" mentioned in Buffy's letter, or about their mutual soaps addiction. She didn't get to grill Buffy either. Every time she tried, something else happened to distract one of them. Normally, Joyce wouldn't be distracted, she would be like a pitbull after a bone. Spike and his smooth and slippery tactics or Buffy and her frantic, wide eyed innocent "I'm with my friends, Mom" wouldn't dissuade Joyce from any discussion she wanted to have. It was Anya who made her reconsider.

"Joyce, do you have paper towels? I think we need them. Now." Anya trotted in, an empty can in her hand.

"I just gave them to Willow. Listen, Anya, I need to talk to Spike, right now, so if you'll-"

"To thank him." Anya smiled, pleased with herself. She was beginning to get a hang of these modern human signals and customs. Edgy sounding parent wanting to talk to someone who'd just saved her daughter's life. Gratitude was going to happen.

"To thank him." Joyce said slowly. "Why exactly do I want to thank him?"

"Oh. For saving her life. A bunch of times lately."

"What? How?"

"Well, let's see. First, there was the time when Adam turned into a machine gun- and Spike got between her and the bullets. I don't think he got shot, but he was willing to take the risk. It wouldn't kill him, but it would have killed Buffy, so that's one life saved. Then there was today. See, there's the enjoining spell and that works for humans. But Buffy has a super human part, and so does Spike. If he hadn't gone in with us, Buffy's super part would have gone supernova and destroyed everyone, swallowed us up. Spike anchored her so she was less likely to blow everyone up. Oh, and then, technically this doesn't count as life saving, but it counts as saving I guess, because Xander says Buffy could have been raped, but Spike made sure she wasn't a victim, and that's when the bonding started. That was the very first thing. Oh, no, because there was also the situation with the end of the world warrior cult. He kind of screwed that up, but he did try. Oh- and then Oz- you remember him? He got captured by these guys, and Spike, Xander, and Buffy saved him. So he saved Oz's life, and since Buffy-"

"Anya, Anya, stop." Joyce's head spun and she leaned against the counter for support. "What are you saying? All this happened? When?"

"Umm. In the last month or so?"

"What?" Joyce gasped. "She almost died- three times? In a month? The other things, all of those horrible things- that was in the last month?"

"She's the Slayer. She almost dies every week. Or night." Anya blinked. "I thought daughters told their mothers stuff."

"No." Joyce swallowed painfully. "Not_ my_ daughter."

Anya looked nervously over her shoulder. Everyone would be so mad at her if she made things worse. Buffy loved her mother so much. Anya dimly remembered her mother. A busy woman, a kind woman, but a woman who didn't understand her. No one understood her. That's why she clung so tightly to love, and why she went so dark when love betrayed her. "I think Buffy loves you more than she can say. And no one understands her."

"She doesn't let me try."

"No. Because she knows you don't like her doing this. You'd try to stop her." Anya looked at her hands. "I know. I used to try to stop Xander from helping her. Because I love him. And- and he's _really_ all I have. The only one in a thousand years..."

Joyce blinked, stuttered something, and decided to let the thousand years remark slide for a moment. "She's all_ I_ have."

"Yeah well, you're all she has too. All the family. Her dad doesn't seem involved and even if he was, I bet he'd treat her like you do. You want her to be normal. I know how it feels to be abnormal, always, forever, not right, not really a normal girl. You'd want to stop her, and she wants to make you happy. If you stopped her, the world would end and people would die. So she can't give you what she wants."

"She's my daughter."

"I know. It must suck."

Joyce's eyes flashed. "I'm very proud of her. When I think what she does- I am so proud of her it_ hurts._" She clutched her chest fiercely.

"Good." Anya cocked her head. "So- you're not mad at her?"

"I'm furious at her. Not at her, just at her life. But it's not her fault. I'm furious at God, or whoever made her have this curse."

"I think she's mad at it too." Anya became her usual blunt and brisk self again, now that she no longer felt scared that everyone was going to be furious at her for her over-communication. Fear was a great motivator to try and understand other people. _I bet that's why Buffy and Spike started to understand each other better. They won't admit it, but they have a lot to be afraid of, every day._ "You won't tell her I told you this, will you? When she's upset, Xander's upset. If he thinks I caused it, he'll give me the sulky puppy face."

"I won't mention it. But- but why doesn't she tell me? This is huge, and she's said nothing!"

"So you're safe. She loves you. She wants you to be okay."

"But I'm the mother, I should keep _her_ safe."

"I think you do. You're the mommy. She's the baby. She needs everything goes bad and she can't fix it, she has to have someplace to go, and that's you. It's some kind of human bond thing."

Joyce blinked and sighed. "You see a lot of things very clearly, don't you?"

"_I_ think so! They all look at me like I'm crazy!"

Joyce let out a tiny laugh. "Not crazy. Just different."

Anya smiled and blushed. "I wished my mother had said that. She just told everyone I had fallen into the fjord and hit my head so they'd stop asking."

"That's horrible!" Joyce cried indignantly.

"I got over it." Anya shrugged. _Mostly._

"The movie's starting!" Xander shouted.

"I've seen it!" Anya shouted back.

"Aww, come on, Honey!"

"I'll be in in a minute." Anya took an empty mug from the tray Joyce had on the counter. "I think I'll have some tea first."

" 'Kay!"

Anya timidly held out her cup. "Do you want to watch the movie?"

"No." Joyce smiled conspiratorially. "I think I have some Godiva hidden in the back of the liquor cabinet." Joyce patted the younger girl's hand. "You want to explain what you meant by a thousand years?"

"Love to." Anya's eyes lit up. "Oh, but I should warn you- most of that time was spent taking painful and creative revenge on unfaithful men."

Joyce regarded her cooly. "Speaking as a woman scorned- that sounds very entertaining."

"Mr. Summers?" Anya dropped her voice. "Buffy never said."

"She doesn't know. No, that's not true. She might know, but I never _told_ her." Joyce gave Anya melancholy, but more understanding smile. "I guess she's not the only one who keeps secrets to try and keep her family safe."

* * *

><p>"This is nice. All safe and cozy and snuggly." Willow murmured into Tara's ear as they reclined on the floor.<p>

"Every post-battle party should include a movie from the Xander collection." Xander sprawled and dumped most of a bag of chips into his mouth.

"And a bottle of the best." Spike sauntered back into the living room waving a bottle of Scotch. "She must've had you in mind, Rupes. Your brand and all."

"Spike! you can't break into my mother's liquor cabinet!" Buffy tried to spring up from the sofa but only fell forward slightly and then back.

"I didn't break in! She left it open. Swear it." Spike tossed the bottle to a startled Giles. "Your brand. How's she know that, eh?"

"Well, I've no idea, honestly, Spike..." Giles fumbled with the bottle and tried to polish his glasses at once, shifting embarrassedly in the arm chair.

"Why are you still here?" Xander demanded, but with less insistence than usual.

" 'Cause I was invited by the ladies of the house." Spike held out a tumbler and shook it impatiently in front of Giles.

"Spike- take your coat off and sit down." Buffy muttered with a yawn.

"You want him to stay?" Xander looked over his shoulder at her.

"He's affected by the spell as much as you." Tara threw a cookie at Xander, more relaxed than ever, feeling as though her insides were being restored, the pieces all coming back slowly, perfectly, when all of them were together.

"Yeah. Shut up." Spike crashed onto the couch beside Buffy, but with a sofa cushion between them, coat flung off behind him.

"You know Adam kept calling you guys 'mates'." Xander grinned with purposeful annoyance at Spike. "No one denied it."

"I'll deny it right now." Buffy reached down and bopped him with the sofa pillow. "We are not 'mates'. "

"Sure we are, Luv. Some sort of on again off again mates." Spike winked.

"Adam wasn't British. He didn't mean you two were buddies. He meant like pairs of animals. Two by two into the ark?"

"Animals rely on instinct and stuff, and humans- and vampires- don't. We are _not_ 'mates'." Buffy bopped him again, harder.

"So much for changing the subject and runnin' like hell." Spike murmured into his glass, low enough for just Buffy to overhear. Buffy blushed.

"Take it easy, Buffster, even with a throw pillow, you're hardcore." Xander tickled her ankle and she squealed.

"Xander. Buffy! Do be quiet and watch the movie." Giles sighed and poured a large shot into his teacup.

"An' speaking of mates, where's yours?" Spike goaded the brunette as the boy sat back.

"I don't think she feels the pull." Willow yawned and answered for her oldest friend. "Like we do. Giles- how long until we feel all normal and disconnected in a good way?"

"Oh, I don't know." Giles considered. "Probably after four or five hours together? It took that long for the gourd to prepare to join our entities, probably it should take that long for everything to separate out. The gourd may be smashed, but the residual effects of the enjoining are still in place. We should have read up on that more carefully."

"But we were sort of in danger of being chopped into little pieces and sewn into monsters if we waited." Buffy popped a handful of popcorn into he mouth and passed the bowl to Spike. "No big. Another couple hours and we'll all go home."

"This move is _awesome._ Two hours is going to feel like ten minutes with this." Xander told him enthusiastically.

However, in ten minutes, all of them were fast asleep. Buffy slumped to the side, propped against Spike's shoulder. Willow and Tara curled in a half circle. Xander snorted with his head tipped to the side, mumbling faintly, and Giles had his head thrown back, empty teacup balanced on his thigh.

* * *

><p><em>If only they'd fallen asleep separately.<em>

_The spell wouldn't have allowed that. And then we wouldn't be here, able to talk one last time._

_It may be truly the last. Sineya is awakened._

_All of them are awakened. More than I thought would have an interest in them._

_We can't fight these forces. We can't even prevent them from entering once they cross into their shadowlands._

_We are not meant to fight all of them. Some are benevolent._

_Yes, but there is one who is not. And she is roaming freely._

In the room, Willow started painfully in her sleep.

_It begins._

_To be continued... _


	24. Chapter 24

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note: Okay- picture the episode "Restless", the Season Four finale. Now picture all that crazy stuff and riotous symbolism trying to be put in word form. I think this may have been the hardest chapter I have ever written so please- work with me here. i write myself into challenging places, but that's why you read me, right?_

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Lithium Reaper, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, MedusaMyLove, MMWillow, uberspazztastic_, _omslagspapper, Brittanyr1221, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Spike'smate, Nos, and Edward Cullen brings sexy back._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXIV

Willow felt blissfully at peace. She was home. Tara was her home. Tara's room was becoming her room, and Tara was becoming hers.

" I think it's strange. I mean, I think I should worry that we haven't found her name." Tara lazily looked over her naked shoulder and Willow slowly turned, watching their kitten bounce away across the room.

"Who, Miss Kitty?"

" You'd think she'd let us know her name by now."

"She will. She's not all grown yet." Willow soothed.

" You're not worried?"

"I never worry here." She smiled. "I'm safe here."

Tara didn't smile back. "You don't know everything about me."

"Have you told me your real name?"

" Oh, you know that." Tara's smile flickered to life before her head went down again.

Willow smiled and reached for the jars. A brush was in her hand, and Tara's smooth pale back was covered in writing. Sapphic poetry. Love written on her skin.

"They will find out, you know." Tara's voice cut into the happy musings.

"About you?"

"About you. And me."

"They'll find out about all of you."

Willow jumped and spun. "Who's there?"

"You called me."

"Tara?" Willow whirled around and Tara was gone. The bedroom had been replaced with a long hallway, a high school hallway recently destroyed. "Where is she?" Willow demanded angrily.

"Where are _you_?" Came the unseen voice again, faint but familiar.

"I can't be here. Again." _I hated high school. I loved Buffy and Xander. Oz. Giles. I found myself here. But- I hated it here._

"Why can't you be here, Babe?" Oz was beside her, and she'd moved, now in the middle of the hall.

"Huh? Are you- are you in my class?" Willow blinked and shook her head.

"No. We were never really in the same league, were we?" Oz's eyes went wolflike and black.

"Oz! Oz, no, that's not why-"

"Cheeses! Cheeses of every shape and size." A short, scrawny man walked past carrying a silver tray, full of perfectly symmetrical flat, yellow slices, completely unvaried.

"I uh- No. Thank you." Willow turned to look at Oz, and hissed, "Aren't those all the same?"

"Everything's the same." Oz shrugged, face reverting to human form. "Everything can be the same and still be different. Can't it?"

"Oz, listen, about Tara, you know we-"

"You traded one monster for another." The whisper was back and Willow whirled- and fell straight into Xander with a totally girly shriek.

"Geez, Wills. Deafen much?"

Willow pushed herself up in alarm. "Where'd Oz go?"

"Oz?" Xander asked in a puzzled voice. "He was never in your class."

Willow opened her mouth, shut it, and opened it again."Never mind. Gosh, I'm having the weirdest day! And I'm so late for drama!"

"Nah. You'll be fine. You're already in costume."

Willow looked down at her long denim skirt, brown ankle boots, and peasant blouse with woven flowers. "I'm dressed like me."

"I know." Xander's voice was suddenly much colder, eyes much darker. "Great costume."

* * *

><p><em>We have to do something. She's targeting the ones we can't reach easily, aren't physically connected to.<em>

_Then we have to use the channel._

_She's affected as well!_

_Not if we get to her before she's consumed completely._

_One only. Two would overwhelm her._

_I'll go._

_But your physical form, he-_

_He's already consumed by another. A triad, but benevolent. Whatever they want him for- it's a strong force. They'll hold her off until they're done._

* * *

><p>"Xander, I'm not in costume, I'm-"<p>

"Late! We're late, we're late, we're late! Curtain in five!" Buffy dashed up, giggling, dressed in a black bob wig and short black flapper dress. "Wills, you look fantastic! Have you seen Oz? And Tara? Aren't they adorable together? At least you're already dressed, that's good, you won't make Giles wait. He hates to wait. And so does your family. They're all sitting out front and they look furious."

"What? Curtain? Tara and Oz?" Willow whirled around, confused, trying to look everywhere at once, and the scenery kept changing. Flashes of a high school hallway, a vast, arid desert, and a red velvet curtain as seen from backstage were whirling in front of her eyes.

"Tara and Oz. You know. Monsters?" Xander was back beside her suddenly, and Spike was close behind.

"Monsters. They need mates." Spike sauntered up slowly, eyeing Buffy with a leer.

"But Oz is- he's a person! And Tara- Tara loves me." Willow felt a tear slipping down her cheek.

"You don't care what she is?" The whisperer was back, speaking from behind the curtain now.

Willow spat angrily. "No! No, of course not, what's the matter with you? Love is love!"

"Curtain going up." Giles' voice rang out in the distance, harsh and clipped, and roars of firing cannons were booming in the distance. Willow winced, getting ready for the humiliation of her life- and got the shock of it instead.

The world spun away, revealing an empty stage and a single figure in the audience, a figure obscured. Willow paused somewhere in the balcony, horrified, looking down at herself. She was in white tights and plaid school girl uniform, her hair was long and mousy, her face free of make up. Her confidence was absent.

"She doesn't care what you are, either." The whisper sighed against her cheek.

A spot light blinked on, and the figure in the audience stood. Tara, dressed in tatters, skin flaking away, curling back, turned slowly towards her.

"Baby?" Willow squeaked.

"I have a second skin." Tara spoke, and Willow was suddenly beside her.

"No. No, just a second voice." Willow suddenly recognized the unseen speaker.

"It's a curse. I am- a monster. Or I will be, soon." Tara held up her hands helplessly, skin cracking like burnt earth.

"I don't care. I'm just a- I'm just a scared little girl. I hide, too! I have a second face, a second voice." Willow clutched the breaking hands frantically. "I don't care what you look like. You look the same to me." She brushed the skin off of her pale face, and the same face remained, smooth and perfect, her blonde, pale, angel. "You're the same underneath."

"No... no." Tara panted fearfully. "Not for long."

"Yes, for long. Forever! Tara, Baby, please. Don't you get it? Love is all that matters to me. I'd never judge you because of what you are. You can't help it."

Tara's voice changed, spoke in a double reeded way, a whisper under her own voice, one mouth moving, two voices, both her own, coming out in a strange stereophonic way. "Neither can they..."

The stage lights came on. Buffy was there, dead center, black wig in her hands, standing still.

"I- I can't remember my lines." Buffy spoke to the empty house, looking right through her audience of two.

"Do you want your girl lines, or your slayer ones?" Spike stepped from behind the curtain, hands outstretched.

"I don't know anymore. I can't be one. I can't be the other. It's too hard to be both. Always alone..." Buffy's figure sank to a crouch, arms wrapped around her knees, blonde hair falling free around her face.

"Can't be human, can't be demon. Live in this world, just on the outside of it." Spike took off his coat and tossed it next to her wig.

"I don't think I can go on tonight."

"You have to go on every night, Luv." Spike crouched beside her, and rested her head in his hand, cradling it tenderly.

"But a solo act- it sucks."

"Don't you know any duets?"

"_Heart and Soul_?" She looked up with a tiny laugh. "But you don't have one."

"I got one. You got the other."

"Do you sing?" She asked with one eyebrow quirking.

"I'm amazin'. How about you?"

"Horrible."

"I'll start you off." Spike took both her hands and sang so low that no one could hear him. No one would have, except in dreams, everyone hears everything. "Heart and soul... I fell in love with you. Lost control, the way a fool would do-"

"Maaaadly..." Buffy blushed. "Because you held me tight, and stole a kiss in the night..."

And they were laughing too hard to continue.

Willow blinked, and found she was crying, a tear from each eye trickling unexpectedly out as she watched her best friend in the arms of her enemy. An enemy who'd begun to protect her, even at the risk of his own life, and she'd returned the favor. "Oh my God. They love each other."

"I know." Tara smiled painfully. "It's obvious when you look at them. They carry a split through their hearts, half human, half not. They prowl alone, in darkness, partnerless, trapped in a fate, either to die too young, or live too long already shrouded in death. They're the obvious choice."

"But- no, look. They really _love_ each other. Look- they're hugging. They're laughing. They're kissing, and it doesn't matter who they are or what they are. Just now, they're two little people, on a stage."

"And all the world's a stage." Tara quoted.

"Poor Buffy. Heck, poor Spike, even." Willow bit her lip. "Do you think it's been for long?"

The figures on the stage moved as one, eyes suddenly locked on Willow's, voices merging, emitting as one.

"It's been forever."

"Alone-" began Buffy,

"since they first made her." finished Spike.

"He died alone-" Buffy caressed his pale cheek.

"she'll die alone." Spike kissed her fingertips as they stole past his lips.

"And it-" Buffy slowly stood, leaning on him for support.

"repeats. We'll die our second deaths alone-" Spike caressed her neck and vamped.

"-without each other." A stake materialized in Buffy's hand and she pressed it to his heart, looking into his amber eyes as they turned to face each other.

"I can't go on alone." They concluded.

The world crystallized, down to single seconds dropping like sands in a vast hourglass, stake pressing harder each millisecond, teeth nearing each moment of a moment.

Willow started running up the aisle, dragging Tara with her, panting as if she was carrying something leaden as she pushed past row after row of seats, each row seeming to spawn another, and she never seemed to get nearer to the stage. "No- God, no, guys, just don't- don't give up already! You don't have to be alone! Love is what matters. Monster or man, or woman, whatever. It's love. We'll stand by you. We know. We know first hand, for real, that love is what matters, right, Tara?"

Willow turned and looked into coal black eyes and gritted jagged teeth. "She stays alone!" The harsh guttural voice marred Tara's sweet whisper. But this wasn't Tara, not at all. Willow screamed and fell backwards, hands pressing into her throat, feeling the dream end. But she didn't wake up.

* * *

><p><em>Will she live?"<em>

_Sineya can't kill one without the others. She's moved this one into place. She can snap her thread easily._

_The witch accepts the pairing._

_The witch doesn't realize what her lover is._

_She does not care._

_The others will not care either._

_I doubt that. We have to show them. It is meant to be. They- we- cannot go on alone._

_We can't discuss this now. She's moving. She approaches the speaker."_

_That is foolish. She cannot harm her or her own message will not continue._

_She can take her over, though._

_No. We won't let her._

* * *

><p>"Willow?" Tara looked around in panic. She wasn't in her room. Well- she was, technically, but it was her childhood quilt, stuffed kitty, mirror with taped posters facing her bed, daisies painted on the walls."No. No, no, no. I'm not here. I'm not here again."<p>

"Sorry, Tara. It's for your own good." Buffy was kneeling on the foot of the bed. "Unless you'd like me to just- poof." Buffy jabbed a stake into the mattress with a smile.

"W-why would you do that?" Tara clutched her pillow and looked at Buffy in horrified confusion.

" 'Cause you're a monster. Aren't you?"

"N-No. No, I'm a good girl."

"Your daddy says you're not." Buffy bit her lip in a seductive semi-smile. "Willow says you're not. She says you're a bad, dirty girl. Doing bad, dirty things. Unnatural things..."

"Willow would never say that." Tara's voice firmed.

"Wouldn't she?" Buffy pointed to the edge of the bed, and Tara looked over it.

"Willow!" Tara gasped and began to cry automatically. Two figures were tangled under a sheet on her floor, torsos exposed.

"Sorry, Sweetie." Willow pouted, looking up, her hands clutching broad, bare shoulders. "Xander- apologize."

Xander stopped his rhythmic thrusting and turned his head. "Sorry. She had enough of monsters. It was a phase. Tell 'em, Wills."

"It was a phase." Willow moaned and bit Xander's earlobe.

"Come here. Let me make it fast. I mean- do you want to come back to live in this place? Get locked in this little room? With the guys always coming around- to put you in your place?" Buffy twirled her stake and slid it up and down against her cheek in a very suggestive way. "You don't want anyone to put you in your place again, do you?" She leaned against the stake and pouted.

Tara looked at the figures on the floor and at herself. Her skin was peeling. Cracking. Underneath, there was demon skin, she knew it, she could feel it, just couldn't see it yet. "I- I don't think I want to-"

"Taaarrrraaa!" A masculine bellow rumbled the house.

Buffy fluttered her lashes. "Uh-oh. Who's that? Big brother? Or Daddy?"

"I- I-" She couldn't breathe, her airway was being choked off in her own panic.

A sudden shout distracted her, just as she thought she might hyperventilate and pass out.

"Hey. Yeah. You." Spike tapped on the mirror that faced her bed, looking straight into her pale blue eyes.

"Spike? Tara blinked in shock.

"No." Buffy angrily stood up, blocking the mirror.

"Wait- how is he- he doesn't reflect." Tara tried to peer around her.

"Got it in one, Pet. I'm on the right side of the lookin' glass. _You're_ not."

Tara felt her airway opening and she almost sobbed in relief. "What do I do?"

"Hey! Are you going to listen to him? He's a monster." Willow reached up and jerked Tara's arm roughly.

"You can't trust him. He's two faced!" Xander took her other arm.

"Soulless. A killer." Buffy reached her stake forward slowly.

"True." Spike whistled tunelessly and leaned against the frame of the mirror, looking at the ceiling as if he didn't have a care in the world. "I'm all the things they say I am. So you gotta decide- can you trust your gut? Can you ever trust a monster? Can a demon ever be your salvation?"

Tara closed her eyes, clenched herself into a ball- and sprang. The roar that followed her almost stopped her heart, but she didn't look back. She crashed through the mirror with a thousand shattering shards and landed-

In her dorm room? "Okay... scary."

"You know- you need to trust yourself like that all the time." Buffy spoke to her softly. But this was normal Buffy. Except that Buffy was kissing the brow of an unconscious Spike who lay on her hand loomed rug.

"Is he okay?" Tara scooted to him.

"He's just resting. He's having surgery." Buffy murmured tenderly.

"He is?"

She nodded sadly, pressing yet another kiss to the closed eyelids."Yeah. Have to learn to trust him. Just like you have to trust yourself."

"I- I want to."

"Then do. Why can't you?"

"I'm bad. I have- Buffy, I'm part demon. On my mother's side."

"So?" Buffy didn't take her eyes from Spike.

"So- so you kill demons. All of you fight demons."

"Are you evil?"

"No! No, and I won't be!"

"Then we're cool." Buffy shrugged.

"Just like that?"

"Yeah. I have demon in me, too. On my slayer's side." Buffy replied easily.

"You never told me that."

"No one knows that."

"Then how do you-"

"I don't. She does."

"What? Who?"

"The First Slayer. We called her. She woke up my slayer-y side. She knows. She tells me things. Sometimes."

Tara bit her lip. "But you're so good. You're the representative for good, for the world!"

"I know. I don't like that. But I am. You can't control what you are. You can just control what you do with it." Buffy looked up at her for the first time during their conversation. "You have to choose. Right now."

"Right now? Ch-choose what?"

"You have power." Buffy put her head down to Spike's lips. They were still, but she sat back up and stated, "Spike says you're clean. He says vampires can smell demon. Or human. Or a mix. You're human."

"B-but my family! My blood, it's-"

"Powerful." A trio of voices spoke and Tara flinched. One voice she recognized as her own and that freaked her out, the other two were neither male nor female, but they were extremely beautiful, like light and dark, flames and water.

"Choose! Choose right now!" Buffy pulled Spike closer to her, tugging his shoulders into her lap.

"Choose what? Someone tell me what to choose."

"We have a fine assortment." A skinny, bald man leaned through the door and held out a platter of cheeses, oddly, all of them exactly the same.

"Not that!" Willow's voice and then face appeared, shoving the man from the door with an exasperated huff. "Baby! Choose love. Always choose love!"

Tara nodded, then floundered. How exactly did you do that? She was being consumed, the noises, the three voices, they were all speaking, all telling her different things. _Choose love, choose love, how do I do that?_ She looked frantically around the room- and then she knew.

Her gaze locked on the figures on her floor. Buffy crouching over Spike protectively. Because she loves him. She's the light to his dark. She's the fire to his flood, he's the quenching to her voices, the indistinct voices- those were Buffy and Spike- or part of them. She strained her ears and listened.

_You are not demon. You are not an Old One. Your people are the Earth, the anchors, the ones who see, the ones who hear, the ones who speak. You have power._

"But what is it?"

_Don't you know? You are a Channeler. A Conduit. You can hear the messages. You can see the auras. You are connected to the elemental realm. You have a power that is neither evil nor good._

_It is as we are. We can be used in any manner. It is all up to how you _choose_ to wield it._

_Choose wisely, White Witch._

Tara rocketed up and thrust her hands out, pushing away the noises, all the noises. "Be silent!"

And the room was still. Tara looked at the couple on the floor. She could hear Buffy's heart beat. She could Spike's. She realized that was impossible, and shook her head, listening again.

Buffy's heartbeat echoed in his silent chest. "I have a message for you, Buffy Summers." Tara smiled and wiped at her own face. Dry skin and cracked lines fell from her. Her second face was merely her first one. "You are whatever you want to be, inside and out. You have two faces- both of you. But they are both the same."

"What?" Buffy asked, but her mouth didn't move, she seemed to speak with her eyes.

"It's the same. Inside and out. Both halves. They really want the same things."

"What things?" Again, no movement, but the voice was there, clear as a bell.

"Survival. And love. You can have them both. But you have to choose. You have to show no fear, and show every trust in each other."

This time Buffy's mouth moved, and her hands moved, too, touching Spike's chest. "He's going to be different now."

"You have to trust him anyway."

"I think I forget how."

"Then choose love."

"But he'll be different."

"It won't matter. He'll still love you."

"She wants to take him away." Buffy looked at something over Tara's shoulder. Tara didn't turn. She knew who was there.

"No. She wants to kill everyone else. She knows you need him."

"I need all of you!"

"She doesn't think so. But she concedes a point. You need Spike. Until you kill him."

"I won't kill him!"

"No. You won't. But she thinks you will. Prove her wrong. Prove them all wrong. Choose love."

Buffy looked down at the body she held. "It still scares me."

"It will always scare us." Tara knelt. "But we do lots of scary things, don't we?"

"We do." Buffy touched her cheek softly, before turning her gaze back to the vampire. "It's okay, William. I'm here. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

There was a howl of rage and Tara felt everything fade to gray. She slept, peacefully.

* * *

><p><em>She's intact.<em>

_She will survive, at least._

_They will _all_ survive. What is this defeatist attitude? Are you not the greatest of the warriors?_

_Yes. And I have lost and died over one thousand times. I am used to defeat._

_Well- I am not. We are not. He loses often, but he's never been defeated. Except when his heart broke. Now it is mended and we are undefeated once more._

_Hers is mending slowly. I doubt it will take much more. She is in love with him._

_Then we will win._

* * *

><p>"I'm up! I'm up, did I miss anything?" Xander sat bolt upright, gasping.<p>

"Not much." Giles replied in a bored voice.

"Massacres and stuff." Buffy replied, eyes riveted to the screen, holding out a bowl of popcorn. "Corn?"

"Butter?" Xander's eyes lit up.

"New car smell." Buffy jiggled the bowl.

"Are they okay?" Xander reached for the bowl and stopped, distracted as he pointed to Willow, who twitched constantly in her sleep, and Tara, who lay still and seemed so pale she almost glowed.

"Maybe they don't like the movie." Buffy shrugged.

"I think this whole movie is overrated." Giles said irritably.

"It's 'cause you don't like to kill." Spike said scornfully as he snatched a handful of popcorn before Xander got the bowl.

"You don't either." Anya came in with Joyce. "Not the way you did." Spike glared at her. "Oops. Was that one of those things I wasn't supposed to say?"

"Change the subject." Spike hissed. Buffy blinked and spoke up cheerfully.

"Hi, Mom! Hi, Anya!"

"There you are, Baby. And- Mrs. Summers." Xander moved over. "Sit down."

"We can't." Anya said bluntly.

"We weren't invited to play." Joyce frowned and looked at her daughter gravely. "She never lets me play with her anymore."

"Play? But we're just-" Xander looked at the room. "In the middle of the sandbox." Buffy was slowly playing in the sand, dragging something through it to make shapes. A bone. Anya and joyce had vanished. "Uh, Buff? Are you sure you're okay to play here?"

"I play here all the time." Buffy looked up at him, squinting in the sunlight.

"Okay... but it's a really big sandbox." Xander looked out across a vast desert, a still, blue-white sky blazing with the heat.

"It's okay. I'm safe here."

"But- you can't protect yourself from- some stuff." Xander knelt, reaching for her small hands.

"I'm okay." Buffy's voice was almost childlike. "It's not coming for me yet."

He sighed. "Oh, that. I'm not worried about _that_. But there are other things, Buffy, in life that-" Xander's gentle speech was cut off by a creak of metal behind him.

"Higher! Point your toes!" Giles encouraged.

Xander turned and gaped. Spike and Giles. In matching gray suits. Swinging in the sun. Wrong on at least three different levels and counting.

"It's okay. I have Spike." Buffy beamed.

"Giles is going to teach me to be a Watcher." Spike proclaimed proudly.

"Spike's like a son to me." Giles beamed upon him.

Xander stepped back, masking the hurt with a careless shrug. "Yeah. I was into that for awhile. But- gotta be moving forward. All about the moving forward."

"You do that." Giles urged.

Xander walked off a few steps. "Buffy- are you sure you're okay here? I'm telling you-" He looked over at Spike, "it's not safe here."

"I'm way ahead of you, Big Brother." Buffy whispered, looking up at him.

"Brother?" Xander swallowed.

"Leave her alone. Move on. Don't you want to be alone? Don't you want to be- the _one_?"

"Okay, who's making with the creepy whispers?" Xander whirled, and faced his basement bedroom. "What the hell?"

"I thought you were moving on?" Anya stepped out of the shadows by the washing machine.

"I am." He said in a startled tone.

"You're not." Anya picked up a suitcase.

"Why- why do you have a suitcase?" His mouth dried out.

"You don't want me here." Anya looked at him cooly.

"I do!"

"No. You always see people for what they were. Not what they are. There's no place for demons here."

"Ex-demons!"

"I'm human- but I've been human for about twenty years total. I've been demon for a millennium. I'll always be more demon than human. Even if we stay together- until we're old and gray-" Anya moved slowly towards him, eyes squinting with unshed tears, soft, rose red lips trembling, "I'll never out live that demon."

"Baby- please." Xander swallowed and seized her by the wrists. "Don't talk like that. You are who you are. I love you for who you are!"

"You can't really love me like that- until you move on." Anya brushed her lips to his. "And sometimes that means- letting go."

Xander felt her wrists disappear and he fell. He fell screaming, forever and ever and ever, into blackness- and landed on his bed. Back in his basement again.

"Oh, for crap sakes." He panted, clutching his chest as his heart hammered under his ribs.

"You don't seem to be able to find the way out." Buffy popped out from under the blankets.

"Buffy!" He yelped.

"What? I thought you wanted me to come with you?" She asked innocently.

"I did! I do! I mean- why are you in my bed?"

"Because you always end up back here."

"Well, not for long. We are getting out. I'm going to go find Anya, and you're going to go find-"

"Yes?" Buffy leaned forward eagerly. "Who do I find?"

Xander pushed past her, up the stairs. "I don't know. But we aren't finding anything down here." He huffed and thundered up the steps.

"Xander! Wait! That's not the way out!" Buffy hollered, and ran, double time, up the steps to get in front of him.

"It's a door, isn't it?" He shouted and reached for the knob.

"Not every door is meant to be opened." The whisper was back, and it turned into a fierce growl. The door swung forward, into his chest, knocking him down. A snarling figure, covered in rags, black hair, painted face, glaring eyes, was slavering at him.

"No! No, you can't have him!" Buffy sprang over him, slamming the door shut, holding it closed. "Xander! This isn't the exit. We need to lock this, keep her out!"

"It doesn't lock from this side!" Xander was up, pressing it shut alongside her.

"It has to! It's not meant to be opened!"

"I don't know how to lock it." He hissed grimly. "What is it, anyway?"

"You know that." The whisper was back, but it was different. Familiar, but not harsh and silky like the other one. It was smooth, calm.

Xander turned, and looked down at the foot of the stairs. "Buff- you okay for a minute?"

Buffy nodded. "I'm always okay. On my own."

Xander winced at the truth of that and stumbled down the stairs, looking for the speaker. "Um? Hello? Anonymous whispering person?"

"I'm not anonymous. You've known me for years."

"Yeah, well, I'd feel a lot better if I could see you." He muttered.

"You see me everyday."

"Oh goody, riddles."

"Yes, riddles. Where's the key for the lock?"

"Huh? What lock?"

"This lock! I found the lock!" Buffy called excitedly. "Look!" She held out something, red and warm, her palm filled with it. Something beating, bleeding, and broken.

"No! NO, put it back in!" Xander fell to his knees, looking in horror. Buffy's white shirt was blooming with crimson, a gaping hole under her left shoulder, but she seemed perfectly fine.

"But I'm never going to use it, am I?" Buffy looked at him sadly, and pressed the stolen heart to the door, where it absorbed into the wood, a blood red stain around the knob, forming a neat little keyhole. "Not with you around. You're the heart, Xander. Why do I need one?"

"Buff, this is crazy! We all need a heart!" Xander stood and tried to go upstairs, but found he couldn't.

"But we have to use it, Xander!" She pressed the door shut harder as it thudded ominously against her hands, beating in time to her pulse. "Give me the key! Please, give me the key to lock this! We have to lock her out, or she'll take your heart, too!"

"I don't have the key!" He roared in frustration.

"Sure you do, mate." Spike's voice was faint, almost there, but not quite.

"No. _No._ No, it isn't him. It's never, ever going to be him!" Xander turned angrily, looking for him, for the speaker, but finding no one, nothing physical to vent his rage at.

"Why do you deny her?" The soft, very familiar voice was in his ear.

"I am not denying her! I'm protecting her!" Xander shouted.

"Are you?"

"Yes!" His voice cracked. "This is all I can do, all I can ever do, don't you mojo fairies get that?"

"You do so much for her. She values you so highly. The brother she never had. The brother is the protector."

"Yeah, well, this big brother can't outrun her, can't bench press the guys who wanna rip her throat out, can't aim better than her, can't train like her, can't fight like her. I must be 'big brother', because all I can ever do is_ watch_!"

"You give her hope. You give her the will. You give her love."

"Pretty much all I give her, and not to rain on the intangible parade, but it's pretty worthless. She's one of the best people I know- and all I am , all I ever will be, is useless to her."

"How is a heart ever useless? Even an unbeatin' one still works." Spike's voice wasn't smug, it was almost pleading.

"You are the heart of her. Of all of them. Isn't that worth something to you?" The whisper caressed his ear.

"It's great. Okay, it makes me warm and tingly, but I don't really care about mine as much as I care about hers."

"Xander- a little help here?" Buffy yelped as the door began to push open.

"If you care for her-"

"Look, spirit people, let me give you a history lesson. I saved Buffy Summers' life once. Yeah, me, normal guy. You know how? CPR. Any kid at Y- Camp learned it on Donna Drowner, CPR dummy extraordinaire. Do you know why I got to save her?"

"Yes." Said one voice.

"No." Said the other.

Xander looked frantically at the top of the steps, inching towards them, still speaking. "Because the guy she loved? The guy who should have died for her? Got to the buzzer a little late. And when he gets there- he doesn't even have any air to give her. I only have one heart, and I'm gonna use it to guard hers. I watched that guy break and shatter it, and I watched him, one of _them_, a _vampire_, tear it out when he left. I think she would have died if she didn't have people to save. So- I'm returning the favor. I'm saving her whenever I can."

"Can you save her, truly? This heart- is it whole, is it happy?"

Xander tried to lie. Funny thing was- you really couldn't in here. "No." He whispered.

"She's coming in! She's getting in!" Buffy's voice was thin and frantic.

"I'm trying!" Xander made another feeble attempt to reach the stairs.

"No, I need the key, it won't lock!"

"Give her the key."

"Oh, goddamn it, where is the key then?" Xander hollered, making the air spin and sparkle with the red hot anger in his soul.

"There's only one that fits." Spike materialized, a shadow, climbing the stairs.

"No! No, not him, not one of them, not again!"

"I thought you moved on?" The voice challenged, flashing a picture of Anya standing at the edge of the desert in front of his tearing eyes.

"How can he be the one?" Xander cried.

The silky, sneaking whisper was back, eerie and making his skin crawl. "Indeed. How can he ever be the key? To anything, to anyone? He's just a vampire. Heeeere vampire. Heeere, vampire, vampy vampy..."

"Stop that! You're crazy, and that's saying something around here!" Xander swatted at the air, watching Spike move slowly, one step at a time, filmy figure seeming to grow more solid with each pace.

"Give her another key, okay? Any other one, just not him." Xander asked the open air. "Please. I want her to be happy. I want to protect her. I don't want her to go through this again."

"You always have to choose." Willow and Tara were suddenly standing at the edge of his bed. "You can choose."

"I can?"

"Sure." Tara smiled gently. "But you should always choose love."

"He's a visual learner." Willow whispered, and her eyes flared like black diamonds in firelight. "Wanna see a magic trick?"

"Don't forget the crystal ball." Tara threw something heavy at him and he unthinkingly caught it.

He wished he hadn't. He wasn't sure if it sucked him in, or it projected the pictures out, but he was inside someplace real. Someplace nightmarish, changing venues every few seconds, leaving him staggering in grief or horror and before he could even process one fearful image, ramming another one in front of his agonized eyes. But he knew it was real. Or it would be.

Joyce was pale and gaunt, dressed in white, surrounded by roses, the casket she lay in slowly closing. Spike was there, in the darkest corner of a dark room, crying, bleeding, cutting into his chest over and over again as he rocked, sobbing Buffy's name. Buffy's form flashed in front of him, her chest torn open, blood soaking the grass, her eyes blank and glassy. Giles whirled past, dead on the floor of a ravaged book shop, Anya dead beside him. Tara was next, upstairs in what looked like Joyce's room, blood all over her shirt, lifeless body at the foot of the bed.

"No." Xander shook his head vehemently.

"Spin it again, Baby." Tara said regretfully to Willow.

"He won't like this one."

"He still has to see himself." Tara smiled apologetically and spun the ball one more time, doing it from a distance with a mere twirl of her fingers.

"Wills?" Xander touched the ball with one finger tip. "That's not you." The black haired, black eyed witch, electrifying him with bolts of lightening, weeping black tears on a spiderwebbed face.

"Not yet." Willow smiled sadly.

"If he's the hero- if Spike's so important, where is he?" Xander shook the ball angrily.

Spike's face appeared in the ball, looking right at him, speaking right to him. "Torn apart. Tried to fix it an' I failed. But I'll be back, be the man she deserves. 'Course it'll be too late by then. Or- I could just be here for her now... you know I'm bloody good at not leavin'."

Xander looked towards the stairs, Buffy's fingers, bloody and stained, were reaching to Spike's insubstantial ones, a pleading look in her eye, mouth moving silently.

"But what does this mean- hey? Hey! Willow! Tara?I really,_ really_ am not liking the disappearing acts around here, okay?"

"They don't disappear. It's just that the heart can only be influenced so much." The familiar voice was back.

"Tara?" Xander frowned. "Is that you in there?"

"No. Not her. In here." The voice rippled. "We have one more message."

The voice turned into a trio of voices, all definitely male, definitely older, something mystical and warning in their tones. "Don't take away the Slayer's key. Or we'll send you a new one."

Xander staggered back with a scream as a terrified little girl, a hysterically laughing woman, and a flaming blue portal slammed into his mind at point blank range, intense enough to feel every fear, every instability, and all the pain of a hell dimension.

"You can have all this. Or you can choose the vampire." The trio intoned.

Xander lay back, panting, gasping, terror strangling him. "I- I can have everyone die, or I can take the vampire, huh? You guys were used car salesmen, weren't you?" He rasped out.

"Oh, go on. Take him." A little bald man leaned over him, holding out a silver tray lined with slices. "I'll throw in some cheddar. Everyone loves cheddar."

"Love. Loves. Choose love. Oh, God, that already happened, didn't it?" Xander jerked himself off the ground, eyes locked on Spike and Buffy as they quivered, inches apart. "They're already in love. So if I don't let her have him- her heart breaks anyway."

No one answered him.

"Buffy! Buffy, no!" Xander stormed the stairs with strength he never knew he had, was sure he didn't really have. Tore through Spike's immaterial form, grabbed Buffy and yanked her from the door, pressing his own back against it.

"No!" Buffy wailed, falling down, falling into Spike's arms, just as he turned solid.

"Yes! Yes. Go on. I swore I'd protect your heart. I _am_ your heart." Claws tore into his back, and he felt the fingertips like needles piercing his heart from behind. "I choose love!" He choked as the crimson fluid invaded his throat. "I'm the brother. I- will do- more than just watch. I protected you. I saved- your- heart." His head tilted back in agony and exhaustion.

Buffy felt her own chest closing up, wounds healing. "Spike?" She gasped out tearfully.

"Shh, Baby. Got the key. Right here." Spike tapped his own chest.

"But Xander! He's-"

"Doing what he always wanted to do, Heart. Be yours. Save yours." He gave her his arm to leave on. "Come on. We gotta get out of this place if you want to return the favor an' save him back."

"Xander! Xander, don't let her win! I've got this, okay?" Buffy called desperately.

Xander opened his eyes wearily. "I know. You always come through." He looked at her, wound healed, and Spike behind her, supporting her. "I'm glad I came through for once."

"You always do!" Buffy made her way towards the stairs, but Spike shook his head, warning her as the growling intensified from behind the door Xander was selflessly blocking. "Promise me... promise me you'll be here when I get back."

"I promise." Xander felt his breath becoming more labored, more shallow, but the pain was fading. "Don't worry. I'm only sleeping, Buff."

And he was.

_To be continued..._


	25. Chapter 25

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note 1: A repeated warning about these dream scene chapters: Please picture the episode "Restless", the Season Four finale. Now picture all that crazy stuff and riotous symbolism trying to be put in word form. I think these may have been the hardest chapters I have ever written so please- work with me here. I write myself into challenging places, but that's why you read me, right?_

_Author's Note 2: Sorry if some of you received double story alerts this week. I did post chapter 24 twice due to the glitches on FF, as I knew some people had received a story alert while others had not. But it's okay, right- because in less than 24 hours- a new chapter for you to read and it kinda evens things out._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Lithium Reaper, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, MedusaMyLove, MMWillow, HachimansKitsune, uberspazztastic_, _omslagspapper, Brittanyr1221, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Babyfaith18,RagnarBlackmane, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Spike'smate, Nos, and Edward Cullen brings sexy back. _

_Thank you so much for your overwhelming kindness about Chapter 24, it was difficult to write and so encouraging to know you liked it. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXV

"Does Xander always snore like that?" Joyce heard a snuffling, choking noise from the living room.

"No. But he doesn't usually sleep halfway against the sofa with his head propped up on a bag of cheese curls either." Anya said unconcernedly.

Joyce peeped into the living room and looked at the sleeping figures. She stole over softly and took Rupert's tea cup from where it perched on his leg. She smiled quizzically at the still Tara and the twitching Willow, and rolled her eyes at the strange sounding Xander. She saw Buffy had slumped against Spike and her lips thinned. She considered moving them apart, but she didn't want to end up getting attacked by prodding a sleeping vampire. Two years ago I never would have even had that thought or used that sentence, she thought irritably.

"They're all exhausted." Joyce smiled to Anya as she came back in. "They didn't even blink when I walked around them."

"They're beyond exhausted. That spell took so much energy. This is the crash after the high. Earlier- Xander was like one of those perpetual motion machines." She sighed contentedly.

Joyce looked embarrassed and blushed.

"Sorry. That was very untactful of me. I'm working on it. It helps talking to an actual person, not just teenagers." Anya grinned. Joyce laughed. "Is it because you don't have a partner that you look all pink in the face?"

"Well- no." Joyce tried to explain, cheeks blushing even more. In the last hour or so, she and Anya had been talking like old pals, and she saw so much loneliness and confusion in the girl. She tried to answer everything kindly and honestly. Maternally, patiently, because Anya seemed to be some blend of awesome power, worldliness, and lost little girl. In that way, she reminded her of Buffy. "Or- well, partially. It's just that Xander is like my son, and I don't usually think of him like that."

"You need someone your own age to think of like that?" Anya asked.

"Oh..." Joyce became very interested in her plate of nibbles. "I actually think I've given up thinking about those things lately."

"But women have all this sex drive in their forties!" Anya protested.

"And this forty something woman has had exactly two romantic encounters in the last four years- a robotic impostor who tried to kill Buffy, and Mr. Giles when he was- oh." Joyce shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, let's just say it wasn't really him and I in control of our actions."

"Sometimes that's how bonding starts, though." Anya tipped her chair back and stole a look at the sleeping blondes on the sofa. Then she turned to Joyce, eyes lit up. "Have you ever heard him sing?"

"Who?"

"Giles! Oh my God- orgasmic."

Joyce sipped her tea and then muttered with a cheshire smile, "All of him is orgasmic."

Anya leaned forward eagerly. "Spill?"

"No... I couldn't. Rupert is someone you should see as a responsible adult- not a boy toy." Joyce tried to sound firm.

"He wouldn't be _my_ toy." Anya replied teasingly. "You know he needs a girlfriend, don't you?"

"Actually- no, I thought he had someone, Buffy mentioned her name a few times. Olivia?"

Anya waved her hand dismissively. "She got scared off by the monsters. Hightailed it back to England. Besides, he didn't love her, she was an orgasm friend. You could tell by the way she treated him. He would be too smart to fall for someone who didn't value him more than that."

"Hmm. Yes, I know, he is very 'valuable'. He's incredibly intelligent- even if he uses it for the occult." Joyce poked at a chocolate square and sighed. "He's a wonderful man- when I'm not furious at him."

"Buffy loves him. Isn't that the most important thing for single parents? That the children and the dates get along?"

Joyce shook her head, not in denial, just to stop the crazy ideas running through her head. "Yes, that _is_ important. But we're not having this discussion, Anya. We need to stop. This is serious. Giles loves her like a daughter, but that doesn't mean he likes me as anything more than the nice- or not so nice- lady who is her parent."

* * *

><p>Giles felt very height of his Watcher skills were being called forth. The Slayer was his to train, his tool for good, and he had reached the pinnacle of that training. Training her mind. "You have to stop thinking." He swung his pocket watch in front of her face. Hypnotizing her. He could move time itself, turn the slayers through the ages to his will. "Let it wash over you."<p>

"Don't you think it's a little old-fashioned?" His pupil protested.

"This is the way women and men have behaved since the beginning..." He had eyes only for her, ignoring the apartment they were in, empty except for one chair, and the girl sitting on it. Wasn't this all Slayers and Watchers needed? Nothing?

"Even before time." Giles continued, swaying the watch. "Now look into the light." He watched her eyes, waited to see the vacancy over take her so she would be at once with the power, and he would turn her into something primal, primordial.

And the child burst out laughing at him, giggling, guffawing, enchanting him with that laugh and those sparkling eyes, so full of life. Not full of death.

Giles grinned and sighed. "Come on, Darling. Let's take you to the fair."

"Yay!" Buffy grabbed his hand and hugged him. "Thank you!"

"Of course." Giles tossed the watch away. He was taking his child to the fair. He much preferred to see her happy, than see her powerful but broken in her fate. "I'll let you play the games."

"Will you buy me popcorn?"

"Of course."

"Will my friends be there?"

"We'll find you someone to play with, Darling." Giles closed the door to his apartment.

In the empty room, something hissed. "No. Alone. There is only alone."

* * *

><p>Giles walked behind her, being pulled by the hand. His emotions warred. Half delighted by her delight, half annoyed at himself. "Dammit, I'm not truly her parent, I'm her Watcher!"<p>

"Couldn't you be both, Dear?" Olivia murmured, pushing the pram along behind them.

"That isn't my place. It crosses the lines." Giles said gruffly.

"Then you'll want to start your own family, won't you Ripper?" Olivia murmured, pushing the pram closer to him.

He looked inside it. Empty. He said nothing.

"Come on!" Buffy suddenly cried jubilantly. "We're gonna miss all the good stuff!" She pulled on his wrist insistently. Giles stumbled and smiled, catching up to her.

"Does she always want to train this badly?" Olivia asked from behind.

"Well, it appears she's never heard the fable about patience."

Olivia looked at him curiously. "Which one is that?"

" The- the one about the fox, and the- uh- less patient fox." He looked around at his surroundings more fully. W_hat in heaven's name am I doing out here? Taking my child to the carnival in the middle of the night. In a cemetery! And my-_ Giles looked into the empty pram and Olivia beside him-_ my nothing. She is my nothing, I have nothing with her. _He looked at her swollen abdomen._ There will be nothing in there, either. They tease us with families, but we only get-_

Buffy stopped with a bounce and cried eagerly, "Here! I want to, I want to!"

"Yes, go ahead." He nodded. Olivia regarded him cooly. "She has no patience." He reiterated in slightly despairing tones.

"What has waiting gotten you, Rupert?" She asked softly.

"Not now, dear, I have to watch her. It's my job." He watched Buffy take a big yellow ball and aim at the corny rubber vampire bobbing around the front of a fake coffin, uttering mechanical phrases in a bad Transylvanian accent.

"They fired you." She reminded him.

"She quit. We still do our jobs." He replied tersely._ Yes. Jobs. Only a job, isn't that what they told us?_ "We cannot change what we are." He looked at his charge, drawing a sharp breath when he saw the face transform before his eyes, harder, leaner, a bird of prey- and just as fast resolve into a sunny smile as she let the ball fly from her fingertips. "Although we might try..." He added, fighting down the cold, clinical approach to her training in one heartbeat, and fighting down the warm, parental pride he found in her at the next._ Neither one fits._

The ball missed and Giles vented his exasperation. "Buffy, you have a sacred birthright to protect mankind!" She pouted at him, but he merely pressed on in a lecturing voice. "Don't stick out your elbow." He ignored Olivia's sigh.

Buffy turned from him, looking chastised, and threw the ball hard, hitting the vampire in the chest. The dummy let out a cry "Ahh, you staked me!"

Giles felt his heart swell. _Look at her. She's so young, but so gifted and alive. Alive was such a rare thing for Slayers._

Buffy turned to him, looking so pleased, so proud. Strangely, he found his face rearranging itself, so he looked unimpressed. "I haven't got any treats." He said dismissively.

That was when Rupert Giles began to realize something was wrong. He might be many things, he might walk a tightrope between a father's love and a Watcher's duty- but he had learned to value Buffy's skill. It had kept her alive, kept all of them alive. He had learned to love her, show her affection when she tried her best, walking on her own tightrope between woman and childhood, life and death, slayer and normal girl. He did not dismiss her success on the heels of a failure. Yet, that was what he'd just done.

"For God's sake, Rupert, go easy on the girl." Olivia smiled and placated. Buffy walked away from them, stopping at the cotton candy stand.

"This is my business. Blood of the lamb and all that." Giles remarked carelessly. Buffy returned to their sides, face obscured as she dove into the spun sugar.

"Oh, now you're going to get that all over your face." Giles warned as if teaching a wayward child.

Buffy turned. Her face was covered as it rose from behind the shell of the confectionary. It wasn't candy covering her, though, it was mud. Clay. War paint.

Giles squinted, confused. "I know you." Something whispered a laugh in his ear. "Buffy?" He reached a hand for her. Her lips drew back, a snarl starting.

"Hey!" Spike's voice cut into the night. Giles tensed and turned sharply. Spike stood at the entrance of his crypt. "Come on!" The vampire waved to him. "You're gonna miss everything!"

"You already miss everything." Olivia followed him.

Giles walked after the bleached blonde, ignoring her. In his curiosity he didn't realize Buffy- and the thing she was turning into- wasn't beside him anymore.

* * *

><p><em>There is a tremendous amount of interference in him. We'll be shut out soon.<em>

_She can barely make herself heard. That is something._

_True, but neither can we._

_Can you tell if they're benevolent?_

_They are not violent. They are not kind. They are simply there. To inform. To Watch. They have always Watched. _The voice turned bitter._ That is all most of them ever did. Watch and record. Watch her die. Watch me die and be reborn, never realizing just what was passed each time I chose a new form to merge with._

He_ seems to know. He seems unsure about this, almost as if he senses her, almost as if he realizes where he is._

_He has been the most highly trained. He should sense her._

_He senses them as well. Or he will soon._

_I wouldn't be are brothers under the skin, as much as she and I are sisters in the soul._

_They have no powers._

_I know. For tonight, it seems as if they don't need any._

* * *

><p>Giles strode into the crypt looking around in puzzlement, then began speaking sharply to Spike. "Don't push me around. You know I have a great deal to do."<p>

"Yeah. Seems you've left some of it a bit late, Rupes." Spike pointed behind the Watcher. Giles turned and spared Olivia a glance. She was sitting on a coffin, crying, the pram overturned beside her. Her hands were tied to the lid and she looked miserable.

"That's none of my concern." Giles swallowed and replied stiffly. It wasn't. Yearnings for adult relationships and the desire for a child or family of his own were tied to . He looked at Olivia again and turned away. He didn't need that. Perhaps he already had those things. A niggling sensation again bothered him, warned him that something wasn't quite right. He pushed past it, ignored it. "Show me what you want to show me."

"I've hired myself out as an attraction." Spike struck a threatening pose.

"As what, a sideshow freak?"

"Yeah, mate, it's still showbiz." He growled and posed for a crowd of cameras and reveled in the attention.

"Oh, for goodness' sake, it's just an act." Giles grimaced.

Spike threw his arms wide for the eager crowd. "Well- yeah. _Now._" Spike rolled his eyes. "Just gotta keep up appearances, don't we, Rupes?"

Giles blinked and shook his head to clear it as a younger looking, flesh colored man stood before him, with soft curls and glasses. The face turned into the grotesque features of a vampire before turning back into the cold, white, chiseled face of William the Bloody. "We're nothing alike."

" 'Course not. Neither of us love her or nothin'."

"What?" Giles shouted. Flashbulbs went off in a riot. "Stop that!" He swatted at them. "That isn't what I meant. You're not what you were, Spike. You're evil, but you're harmless."

"Not harmless." Spike's feral grin earned oohs and ahhs. "Can do plenty of harm. If I wanted. And so could you. It's all in how you feel- not in how well you keep up the act." He gave Giles a significant glance and his casual clothes melted into the stiffest of his stiff three piece tweed suits, his arms full of books and papers, a photo of Buffy, Willow, and Xander on the top of the stack.

"What am I supposed to do with all of this?" He asked in confusion.

"You gotta make up your mind, Rupes." Spike warned.

Giles looked at everything in his arms, cast a look behind him at Olivia and the upended carriage, and back at Spike as he struck another pose.

"What are you wasting your time for?" Spike asked quizzically. "Haven't you learned anything?" He jerked his chin to the sobbing female in the corner.

"All I do is learn." Giles set the books down on the edge of another coffin. His hand lingered there, caressing the photo on top.

"Well, good for you. Haven't you figured it all out yet, with your enormous, squishy frontal lobes, and all your learning?" Spike demanded.

Giles set his jaw and took the picture firmly in his hand, and began to walk past. "I still think Buffy should have killed you." He hissed.

And that was when Giles knew something was wrong on multiple levels. For one thing- that was the Watcher thing to say. But he, Rupert Giles, the man who felt a familial tie to the girl, had seen the way Spike and Buffy had come to care for each other. Neither wanted the other dead. They needed someone, all beings need-

_No! Alone. Always alone!_

Giles felt like something was moving the air around him, catching faint whispers, but like they were blowing in across a stormy bay. And like hot fronts meeting cold, he knew a storm was coming. Something pushed him away from Spike, away from Olivia, isolating him.

_Because you are singular in purpose, Rupert Giles. Without family, without love._ This voice was choral, many voices, all soft, all manicured, complacent, merely stating facts, passionless.

"But I do have- that is, I did want-" Giles stammered. He felt as though something were jamming the connection from his mouth to his brain. Words died away, everything died away inside him. He felt the stiff red tie he wore against his tweed waistcoat tighten warningly. He stopped trying to speak for himself and the pressure lessened. The world returned to sharp focus, and Spike was in the forefront.

"Are you gonna answer me?" Spike was now in front of him, eye to eye, and everything else was hidden, not gone, just not visible at the moment.

"What?" Giles asked, startled.

"I said, 'Why's that then?'. Only you went away." Spike chuckled unpleasantly. "But as you're back- tell me why. Why should she have dusted me?"

"She should have killed you because you're a creature of the night, evil." Giles answered in precise, clipped tones. He frowned slightly. _No, that was wrong, somehow. Don't I have something more to say?_

"Sorry, I wasn't askin' you." Spike shook his head.

"Well, then who in God's name were you asking? Why are we playing this game?"

Spike grinned broadly. "First one to figure out it was a game. Good job, Watcher. Now- could I speak to your less tight-arsed side?"

"Side? I am not a coin!"

"Oh, mate... we all have two faces around here." Spike shifted from William, to Spike, to the demon again. "Some of us have three, don't we Ripper, I mean Rupert, I mean Watcher?"

Giles froze. "Alright. Who do you want to speak to?" He asked with a vague feeling that something was about to burst.

Spike sensed it, too, his smile widened. "Lemme speak to the man who loves her like a father."

Giles was back in his jeans and baggy black coat, glasses on, but slightly askew. He clutched Buffy, Willow, and Xander's photo in his hand, but nothing else. No books, no papers. He wasn't a job, he was a man."Yes?" He prodded uncomfortably. He knew he had to speak fast. Something wanted him to revert to the precise man he'd masqueraded as for so long, something wanted to muzzle the side that had broken its training and learned how to feel so deeply.

"Why do you think she should have killed me?" Spike repeated softly.

Giles paused. A Watcher's answers were different than _his_ answers. His personal answers. There was a struggle, the feeling of pressure building and building, and suddenly he spat out, "Because I wish I had killed _him_!"

"You've switched pronouns on me." Spike cocked his scarred eyebrow.

"Angelus! Angel, either, both, before he could destroy her heart and rip it to shreds. Twice, three times, however many, I don't know. He should have died before he had a chance to ruin her world! Then with Riley- I knew it wasn't real. He didn't fully accept her." He looked over at Olivia, and found her walking away, pram left behind, shackles on the coffin opened. "Like she didn't accept me..." He mused, watching her drift away without a backwards glance.

He blinked and turned back to Spike. "No- I know, you see. The difference. Between the ones you like and the ones you love. The ones you should love, you can't sometimes. The ones you shouldn't, you do." _Like him and Buffy. They should never have been forced together. But they were. They shouldn't have bonded, come to feel for each other, but they have. And I can't bear to watch her break again. They never told me I would have to Watch that. That's one reason she's supposed to stay alone, if you're alone, no one can hurt you..._ "You two shouldn't be anything to each other. Nothing." He whispered hoarsely.

"Shoulds and Shouldn'ts die early around a Hellmouth." Spike shrugged.

"So will she! She did already!" Giles let loose a roar of pained words, and nothing could quell him. "He loved her, so he said, she loved him, and he destroyed her. I'll never get her back again, whole and perfect, and not knowing that kind of pain. She has so much taken away, and I can't even protect her from knowing there's something that can hurt so badly as losing the only woman you've ever loved!" He finished with a choked gasp, realizing somehow his own hurt had gotten tangled into his tirade.

Spike narrowed his eyes. "We are talkin' about Buffy, right? Not Red?"

"No... he's talking about me." A figure spoke from the shadows, seated in the place Olivia had so recently vacated.

"Jenny?" Giles breathed, spinning to face her.

"No, Rupert... just her shadow." She smiled.

"I thought this was all about me?" Spike muttered petulantly.

"Oh... grow up. Everything's not always about you." Jenny told him, twisting as best she could though her hands were secured to the lid of the coffin she graced.

"Jenny! Jenny, you're- you're not really here?" Giles faltered in mid step as he started to run to her.

"No. I just came to give you a little help before the big boys get to you." She laughed softly.

"Who? What 'big boys'?" Giles looked around.

"Oh, you'll meet them. You'll meet so many people tonight." She sighed and then shook her head as he walked closer. "No. No, you can't touch, Giles."

"But- you're here, and I never got to say-"

"-so many things? I know that. You learn so much when you're dead, not bothered by the world and all the fake shiny things... I know you're wasting time right now." Jenny nudged the overturned baby carriage with her toes and sent it scratching along the concrete floor. "That? That's a waste of time. Me? I'm a waste of time, Sweetie. We're bound in death, and this family you might have wanted is never going to get made. Not like this."

"But- but you accepted my work, the job, the attachment to Buffy..." He pleaded.

"I know. Someone else will accept it, too. But you have to accept it first, Baby." She leaned her head forward as if she was laying it to his cheek, even though they were yards apart.

"I do. I know my place, my duty..."

"Yeah, you big bookworm. Now choose to do your duty- and what you _need_ to do. There is a difference."

"She's right y'know." Spike muttered, idly flicking cobwebs from the mausoleum's wall.

"Shut up!" Giles barked.

"See? There it is again, Rupert. That father's love?" Jenny's figure began to blacken, gray shadows misting over her skin.

Giles shook his head frantically as she began to fade. "No! No, I don't understand what you're trying to say."

"Don't kill the new love- because the old one is dead. Don't kill the new love, because the old love should have died." She winked, only her face standing in relief from the darkness. "Always, always, _always_ choose love."

Giles watched her disappear completely and then turned back to Spike, who was standing silently. The two regarded each other for a long moment.

_Don't listen to her._ A trace of a whisper caressed his cheek, harsh and guttural. _You couldn't trust her before, could you, hmm?_

Spike looked at Giles through lazy, half-closed eyes, an unlit cigarette now wedged in the corner of his mouth.

"I don't trust you." Giles finally ground out, paternal instincts aroused, pushing other thoughts, other speakers to the side.

"Don't have to. She will. She does." Spike flicked his lighter open, flames dancing, lighting his pale face, highlighting blue-black eyes as they looked through the man in front of him.

Giles opened and closed his mouth and struggled for words. "I love her. It isn't my job to trust you. It's my job to make sure she has someone_ she_ can trust. Not just to watch her. To watch _over_ her. And something is out there tonight. I'm going to do something about it. If you _do_ care for her, Spike- you'll be doing something, too."

Giles hurried away, away from an angry buzz in his ears, almost whispers, words not distinct enough to make sense. All he knew was that they were following him, and he had places to go before they caught him.

_Something is wrong, something is wrong, and she has to fight it. But I have to _find_ it._ His footsteps echoed in the darkness of the crypt which was soundlessly melting out of his realm, leaving the vampire behind him alone.

* * *

><p>Spike sighed heavily. "Do somethin', he says." Spike puffed out a cloud of smoke. "Bloody fool." He opened his coat and peered down at his chest. "Didn't even hear 'em working away in there..."<p>

"It works up an appetite, doesn't it?" A figure in the dark stretched forward a tray. "Would you like some?"

"Sorry." Spike stepped back into the inkiness, form dissolving, black into blackness. "I'm not on yet."

"No, but you did such a good cameo." The man remarked, and hurried down the path that Giles had taken. "I'll see you next."

* * *

><p>Giles sighed impatiently as he walked through the Espresso Pump and into the Bronze. He looked down at the picture he held and shook his head. "That only confuses the issue." He told the photo tersely. It morphed into a thick black volume. "That's better." He hurried to Willow and Xander, who he knew would be waiting for him on his couch. They were always sitting on his couch when research needed to be done. And that was what needed to be done. Research, cold, hard study. The emotions should be secondary if not absent.<p>

"I'm so sorry I'm late. There's a great deal going on. And all at once! " He cried to his two young companions as he approached. He took the armchair across from the couch, and reached for another book from the coffee fact that his living room set and all his books shouldn't be in the middle of the Bronze didn't register.

Willow nodded, her voice oddly hoarse when she spoke. "Don't we know it. Only at death's door over here. Look at Xander!" She ignored the odd choking sensation she herself felt, and pushed Xander's coat open to show a ripped and gouged hole in his chest, oozing blood from the region of his heart.

"Got the sucking chest wound swingin'." He said with his typical humorous understatement. "But I promised Anya I'd be there for her big night." He pointed to the stage where Anya was rifling through notes as she began a stand up routine. Xander smiled proudly. "Isn't she amazing?"

Giles looked at the stage. "Err..." He was torn between politeness and honesty.

Xander ignored it, eyes only for the beauty at the mike. "I moved on, you know. So she's back. And I'm here for her big night." His smile turned to a look of annoyance. "Now I'll probably be pushing up daisies, in the sense of being in the ground underneath them and fertilizing the soil with decomposition."

A pang worked through Giles heart. He couldn't lose this boy. "Xander-"

_You'll lose them all. She must lose you all. There is only alone. You know this. Your duty demands you know this, and her duty demands she pay that price. The Chosen One. One. Only. Alone._

Giles frowned and batted at his ear. "Did you hear that? Willow, is Tara with you?"

"Always in my heart." Willow smiled gently. "Did you think you heard her?"

"No... well, yes. Only Tara would never say such things." He frowned.

"It's not her. She has two voices. They say all kinds of things." Willow sighed.

"Speaking of saying all kinds of things, what were you gonna tell me, G-Man?" Xander asked as he thumbed through a book.

Giles uneasily shifted in his seat. He couldn't pour out his heart. It only led to trouble. He stalled. "Anya's doing quite well, isn't she?" He nodded toward the stage where Anya was saying something that earned cheers from the crowd.

"Don't change the subject. Do you know this is your fault?" Willow accused.

"We have to think of the facts, Willow. I'm very busy. I have a gig myself, you know." He informed her.

Willow and Xander leaned forward as one. "A gig? We never knew about that part of your life." They seemed excited for this insight.

"You shouldn't see me like that." Giles tried to hide in his book, but they weren't put off.

"Why? We think it's cool. So cool." Willow praised and reached for his hand.

Giles evaded her touch. "I don't want to be 'cool'. If I'm cool you might like me."

Xander grinned crookedly as he explained. "We _do_ like you. Even when you're totally uncool. You're Giles, so uncool is way cool. Y'know, since it's you."

The smile that almost surfaced at the reassurance only Xander could have created died away before it surfaced. Giles looked at them warningly over the tops of his glasses. "If you get close to me, you'll only come to grief."

"We were already one body. All of us. One super Buffy. How much closer can you get?"

The whispering intensified, a clamor, many voices fighting in the background, creating a drone like bees in the hive. Xander batted at the empty air. "I hate those things..."

"So many more than I heard." Willow agreed.

One whisper was pushing itself through, a low, feral growling sound emanating from everywhere and nowhere at once.

"Something's after us. It's uh-like some primal, some animal force." Willow shivered.

"I warned you about getting close!" Giles snapped. "That used to be us."

"Don't get linear on me now, man." Xander tapped his chest. "Kinda running out of time, here.

"Time?" Giles blinked. The watch. Buffy's training. How men and women have trained since the beginning of time...only at the beginning of time, the Slayer had no one to train her, help her, befriend her. _She's furious..._

" Rupert." Willow's use of his first name snapped him out of his revelation. Just as he'd felt everything becoming clear, it got blurry. He almost shouted in frustration, but the redhead was speaking urgently. "You've gotta focus. You must have some kind of explanation. If we don't know what we're fighting, I don't think we stand a chance."

Giles frowned and began to sing. _Oh dear Lord. Now I _know_ something's gone off..._

"It's strange, it's not like anything we've faced before." He stood, and as he rose there was music rising with him. He turned to the stage and found he had a backing group. Oz nodded at him as he strummed a chord on his bass. Giles continued to sing, walking to center stage. "It seems familiar somehow. Of course! The spell we cast with Buffy must have released...Some primal evil that's come back seeking - I'm not sure what..." Giles took his glasses off as he continued his musical explanation. "Willow, look through the Chronicles-" from the sofa the girl nodded and traded books, "search for some reference to a warrior beast." His glasses slipped back on as he grabbed the mike and let his voice soar. "I've got to warn Buffy! There's every chance she might be next.

Xander, help Willow!" He looked into the sea of faces and saw his two earnest researchers, heads bowed over books even as they supported him, lighters held high above their heads, swaying with his voice. "And try not to bleed on my couch, I've just had it steam-cleaned."

The music slowed, and Giles inhaled, ready for another powerful note to escape him. And it didn't. Something wasn't right with this picture. He looked across the crowd, looked at himself. _This isn't what I was supposed to do. I was supposed to do something, not just look in books. I always look in books. I'm supposed to warn Buffy. I was supposed to choose. I wasn't supposed to waste any more time..._

"No, wait..." Giles sang the last words as he dropped the microphone and stumbled off the stage.

"Have to choose. What'd she tell me, what'd she tell me?" Giles tripped over cables and went to his knees.

"Was it about making a choice?" A silver platter appeared under his nose. He looked up startled, into the eyes of a smiling older man with a tray of cheese slices. "I have a nice selection..." He wheedled.

"They all look exactly the same."

"Isn't that funny? Sometimes two different things look alike?"

"Oh, honestly." Giles huffed and pushed away, crawling forward. "It's about love, you idiot. Always choose-" he knew just where to reach, he just didn't know how he knew, into a tangled mass of cords, "love." He held up a small gold pocket watch, dangled it in front of his own eyes.

"Well, that was ... obvious." He looked at it with a small wistful smile. The symbol of his job. The element of his control.

He was vaguely aware that there was silence, the whispers were dead. He was acutely aware that something was behind him, above him, in the darkness. He could hear the labored breathing, the almost, but not quite snarl.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, clasping the watch in his hand. "But I value her more than I value my duty. I have for a long time before this. She's not only my Slayer. She's someone I've come to love. And you must always choose love." He closed his eyes as he felt the figure falling to the floor inches away from him. "Even if you know it'll hurt..."

Giles slammed the watch to the floor, eyes squeezed shut as it burst and its springs went rolling everywhere, casing shattered.

* * *

><p>A rushing wind filled the room and the darkness burst into light. His eyes flew open and he gasped at what he saw standing before him.<p>

"Hello, Darling." A woman with soft brown hair and kindly eyes, clad in sensible brogues and a tweed skirt and coat nodded at him.

"Nan?" Giles scrambled up. "You're dead- this is like Jenny."

"Oh nonsense, Rupert, now get dusted down and come with me." His grandmother took him firmly by the arm.

"But- but what's happening?"

"You called us, didn't you?" She smiled secretively at him.

"No- no, oh Lord, Nanna, we've called the first slayer forth to defeat an unstoppable foe, and instead we seem to have-"

"Yes, dear, awakened the primordial force of Sineya, we heard. But you broke the watch." She frowned severely. "That was your father's watch. It was mine before. And it passed to me from the head of the Watcher's Council, as it had passed to him from his great-great-great grandfather."

"I know, Nan, I'm deeply sorry, but I _did_ have to choose." He paused in mid-step as they walked to the light. "Am I dead then? I chose love- and I should have chosen my sacred duty?"

"Not at all. You're the first one in over a thousand years to make the right choice, you silly boy. I'm sorry you had to get so destructive with a priceless heirloom to do it, but-"

"But what've I actually done?" He demanded as they came to a glowing doorway.

"You chose love. You smashed the symbol of the Watcher, instead taking the role of the father and protector. You opened the corridors of time, Rupert." Se tweaked his cheek affectionately. "Your father's having a fit about it, but the rest of us are very pleased."

"I- I opened the portals of time?" He looked at her in shock.

"You called forth the first slayer, 'last to ancient first', wasn't it?" She quoted the spell.

"Uh- yes, I believe it was something like that." He nodded sheepishly under her sharp gaze. "I knew it was risky. But it was all we could think of at the time."

"Well, what's done is done, Rupert, you called her- and you called us as well, in a way. We've been queueing up for the last few hours, waiting to see you, 'last through ancient first' Watcher."

"But Sineya had no Watcher."

"Oh, and don't think we don't know it! Raising hell all night." His grandmother tightened her grip on his arm. "She's angry. We're not. We offer you a reward, Rupert Giles, for choosing wisely when faced with the ultimate decision- love or duty. You chose love, but you will do both your duty to her, and to your heart." They stepped into the golden gates that seemed to glow, and found themselves confronted by a sea of faces, all peacefully sitting at a conference table that seemed to extend forever.

"Is this my- reward?" He sat in the seat at the head of the table as his grandmother gestured to it.

"This is just the place, Rupert. Now- we haven't any powers, all of us are mere mortals- or former mortals-" a chuckle ran the length of the table, "some of us used magic, many of us didn't use anything but our brains and our keen sense of observation. But you've used yours to the fullest, and championed your cause with your heart as well- although, as your grandmother, may I say its taken you long enough to admit to yourself what even that fool Travers could plainly see-"

"Don't speak ill of the living!" Someone called out. More laughter.

"Right. The heart of the matter, Darling, is that you're at a crossroads and you don't think you're doing very well. We're here to tell you that you will be the greatest Watcher, to the greatest Slayer. The most unorthodox of either, but that is often the way the great ones are."

"She is magnificent, isn't she?" Giles smiled softly at their praise for the child of his heart.

"Yes, because she too combines love with sacred duty. She may often fight alone, but she no longer _feels_ alone. And now her heart, which is truly her greatest weapon, is almost whole, and almost healed. You want to believe that, and you feel compelled to doubt it at the same time.

Giles flinched. "You don't mean- oh, Nanna, not William the Bloody?"

There was a chorus of muttering and mumbling, some heated curses and a few loud protestations in his favor.

"You see, Sweetheart," Giles' grandmother sat in the chair beside him and took his hands, "on this side of the grave, you can see forever. In any direction. Including past and future. We offer you a gift tonight, something usually reserved for Slayers, and improved by our fine skills of observation."

"Yes?"

"One prophetic dream. A Slayer dream, if you will, only without those pesky obscurities and symbolic elements. We're already having quite enough of that tonight, aren't we, ladies and gentleman?"

"Hear, hear!" Rang around the ethereal room.

"One clear dream? Of what is to come?" Giles leaned forward eagerly and nervously.

"Yes. Essentially, a crystal ball, only totally accurate. You will simply see the future. Whatever it is. It will make your decisions easier- or perhaps harder, but you'll make them with some sense of knowing what you're going into." She paused, hand lingering on his for an extra second, squeezing softly. "Not many would honestly want to see that. With all the sorrows life holds, as well as all the joy." She swallowed. "You'll see more than you'd like to, my dear. We call it a reward, we call it a gift, but really it is only an opportunity."

Giles paused. "Will it help her?" He finally asked.

His grandmother beamed. "Yes, Rupert. It will."

"Then show me everything you've got." He sat back and took off his glasses.

* * *

><p><em>How can we be shut out?<em>

_It's not a shadow realm. They've taken him outside this plane._

_Did you know your friends could do that?_

_They are not my friends._

_This man is. He loves her as his own flesh and blood. He would die for her._

_The best ones had that bond. But they were not my friends._

_Friendship isn't our way, that is true._

_No, but you seem to know much about it._

_It's the human shell I inhabit. For a demon, he knows more of emotions than most humans we've ever encountered._

_You don't mind being trapped inside him, made do a demon's bidding?_

_He is good at what he does. _There was a pause as the two spirits waited in time. Time had been smashed frozen. The embodiment of Sineya paused over the body of Rupert Giles, vicious stone knife in her hand. Finally, he spoke again._ It will be different now, of course. What he chooses to do._

_You learn to coexist with it very easily. It's quite nice really. It isn't as strong as having another power, but it's the closest mortals have._

_I don't think it'll be difficult at all. You'll still be near me, another of my kind nearby is always a comfort. And he- even though he says I control him, his heart has always ruled. The heart still remembers. The heart still remembers what it was like to have a soul..._

* * *

><p>Giles slammed back into his body- at least that what it felt like. His future, her future, so complicatedly intertwined, with more twists and turns imaginable, had been forced into his brain like a bullet at the temple. He let out a jagged scream and thrashed once.<p>

"Not easy, was it?"

Giles wiped his perspiring brow and eyed his grandmother as he he shook his head. "Well worth the trip, though." He stood shakily. "I've got to get back."

"No time has passed, Darling." She assured. "You know what that means."

"I know." He nodded, then paused. "About what I saw- should I tell them?"

"Would you want to be told?"

He considered. "Life without surprises is not as sweet I suppose."

"Life without some reassurance is very frightening though." A gruff, slightly strained voice spoke from behind him and he turned. "A few hints won't hurt them. Nice to let your children know you-hrm hrmph, care about them."

Giles smiled faintly and took the hand extended. "Of course, Father."

"Well then- off you go, lad, time's a wasting." His father spoke briskly now, as he pressed something into his palm.

Giles' fingers closed around a restored and unbroken watch. "Thank you." He nodded, locking eyes with a much older version of himself, barely smiling, and slipped it discreetly in his pocket.

"We'll see you soon. Not_ too_ soon of course." His grandmother bussed his cheek lightly and led him from the table.

"By and by, yes, I know." He hugged her briefly. The shining door opened and he stepped through it, falling-

back into the moment. A growl resounded in his ears.

Giles whispered hoarsely, "I know who you are." He felt the clawed hands tighten on his scalp. "And I can defeat you ... with my intellect." The blade pressed in. "I - can cripple you with my thoughts." Something sharp and scraping dug into his skin. "Of course, you underestimate me." His words became more and more of an effort to get out, but he made one final effort. "You couldn't know... You never had ...a Watcher."

Blood ran down his face, his lips moved, and no sound came out.

In the living room of the Summers' house, Giles shook violently.

* * *

><p><em> She has three in place.<em>

_She won't win._

_We can't get in to help the vampire._

_We don't need to. He is well protected. If she gets in at all, it will be brief. Whatever happens, we'll know the outcome in moments._

* * *

><p>Spike snorted as bright white lights hit his face and jerked him from sleep. "Ahh! I'm burnin', I'm burnin' up, I- oh." It wasn't the sun. It was the powerful lights of an operating room. The Initiative labs. "Arggh! Bloody hell! We just trashed this place, can't anything soddin' stay destroyed once it's broken?"<p>

"Not around here, mate."

Spike whirled around and confronted _himself_? "Now hang on-"

"Pipe down, you pillock. You're not the one bein' mucked around with this time." The other Spike shoved him off the table and lay on it, arms casually crossed behind his head. "Now leave me be. I don't reckon I wanna be awake for this."

"What are you doin'?" Spike tugged at his double, but it lay still, motionless. The sound of footsteps approached and with a frantic glance between the hall and the body on the table, Spike decided to vault behind the nearest piece of large equipment and hide. He knew the soldier boys could turn him to ashes in seconds, so he was helpless. Of course, if he was here- and he was still on the table then he still might get dusted. Could you died if you die? _Oh, fuck, that makes no sense and I hate this charade._

The footsteps grew louder and soon revealed their owners. Three men in fatigues- who began removing their olive drab as soon as they neared the sleeping vampire.

"Oh, steady on..."Spike's eyes grew wide. "This isn't going to-" His hissed words died abruptly. The three men dropped their clothes to reveal thick brown robes, hooded, with long flowing sleeves. "Monks? _Monks_?"

The first monk spoke, young and nervous looking, and he addressed his comments to the oldest of the trio, a man florid in his features and brisk in his motions. "Do you think he'll notice?"

"Not this one. It won't be as obvious as the other plan, creating an entirely new being. So obvious, and altering all those minds- the illusion would have had so many flaws. This is better." He drew a scroll from the folds of his cloak and laid it across the sleeping figure's chest.

"I found this. The radiant one took it from his head." The third monk, also quite young, with dark brown hair, held up a glistening black chip.

The alert Spike felt his jaw hit his chest. He rubbed his head in disbelief. "Radiant one? As in the Slayer bits and bobs?" He whispered to himself. "Why in the hell would she put me back in the game?"

"Excellent. She was smart, that knew he'd need to be able to protect himself. And her. Or perhaps she just wanted to protect her lover. At any rate, she did us a favor. Besides, now there's room for this." The elder monk raised his hands and conjured a glowing ball from the air. "Hold him, Mathias, Vincenzo." The others nodded, grabbed his arms, and the leader slowly lowered the ball to Spike's chest, pressing it in over the sacred text that draped him.

The body came to life momentarily with a scream that was hoarse and agonized, long and drawn out as light shot from his eyes and poured from his mouth.

"You're sure he won't notice_ that_?" The youngest one, Mathias gasped, letting go, staring in awe at the still shuddering figure.

"I'm positive. No one will notice." The leader wiped his forehead with his sleeve and stepped back. "Praise be to the Lord. It is safe. She'll never find it there. Hiding it inside a single soul-"

Vincenzo interrupted. "I thought it must be pure?"

"The soul was. The man isn't. The man can be again. Cleansed by love." He remarked complacently. "It is a_ new_ soul after all. The fact that we placed it in a demon-"

"We've corrupted the key!" Mathias suddenly seemed to lose his nerve and screeched in a panic. "Father, what have we done, we've corrupted the Key, oh Holy Mother, have-"

Spike stepped out from behind the lab equipment, just as his other half sat up. They grinned at each other knowingly. They spoke as one. "Well- like we told the Slayer- we're handy at locks."

_You called me! You say my name, and grant me passage!_ A wild hiss filled the air and was immediately replaced with a jungle scream of rage.

"What the-" The Spikes cried. The monks crossed themselves.

Sineya crashed into the center of the lab, dropping from nothingness, her weapon drawn, holding it aloft, snorting with bloodlust.

Then stopped. She glared furiously at the monks, at the first Spike, the second Spike, and the monks again. She let out an enraged cry and ran out again, racing on all fours with panther-like grace.

Mathias wailed, "You've endangered it! The Slayer seeks him!"

"Ah, yes. And she's found him." The Holy Father nodded off to the side.

Buffy, crept into the room, sidling in uneasily, looking longingly at Spike, warily at the monks.

"Should we tell them?" Vincenzo hissed.

"No. They'll figure it out in time. But no one will notice before them. Pure love conceals so many other purities. And this one won't show it easily. It's camouflaged." He nodded contentedly.

Mathias tugged on his leader's sleeve anxiously, hissing. "It's not camouflaged, it's corrupted! You've hidden something pure inside that which is most _impure_! It was supposed to be in its true form, young and innocent, in need of love and protection. Young and innocent!" He gestured wildly at Spike. "Not _this!_"

"But you need love and protection." A voice said from behind the triad. The monks turned and were confronted by a man with a tray of expensive looking cheese wedges. "Love and protection, coming up." He motioned Buffy over, directing her to the Spike who was standing up, not the one sitting on the gurney.

Buffy moved like she was in a trance. "Spike?" She asked doubtfully.

"Right here." Spike held out his hand and she took it. "I haven't seen you in hours, it feels like. Maybe days." He whispered, eyes suddenly bright.

"Years. Years and years of waiting for this." Buffy sniffed in heard, and then smiled tremulously. She flung herself into his arms as he flung his arms around her.

"Now see, gentlemen? A perfect fit. Lock and Key." The blonde figures melded together, rocking as one, faces buried on one other's shoulders and necks, hands stroking each other's hair.

The operated upon Spike watched in satisfied awe. "Well- I'm dead pleased." He said, before he got up, strutting before the monks and the man with the cheese platter. "See you 'round, freaks. Don't worry about the little gift you gave me. I'm damned good at hidin' things. Fooled people for a hundred years. Even m'self. You just look after those two. Do the whole love and protect bit, yeah?" He saluted jauntily, and strolled off into the darkness, whistling.

As the figure drifted away and the whistling died out, the cheese man smiled. "Love and protection. You know, love is protection. You should always choose love." The man bearing cheese nodded sagely. The monks looked thoughtful. "Don't worry, boys. Have some cheese. It's better with age." He gestured to the embracing couple. Everyone turned and stared at them in silence, two figures looked in each other's arms, coming home after such a long time of waiting to find each other. "Yes, sir. Everything's better with age."

_To be continued..._


	26. Chapter 26

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's Note 1: A repeated warning about these dream scene chapters: Please picture the episode "Restless", the Season Four finale. Now picture all that crazy stuff and riotous symbolism trying to be put in word form. I think these may have been the hardest chapters I have ever written so please- work with me here. I write myself into challenging places, but that's why you read me, right?_

_Author's Note 2: Long. Complicated. Last symbolic chapter, smut will return in Part XXVII_

_Author's note 3: Original script usage- with my twists. Homage to Pink Floyd and "Wish You Were Here"._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Lithium Reaper, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, HachimansKitsune, Illusera, _ _omslagspapper, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Babyfaith18, RagnarBlackmane, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Spike'smate, McPastey, and Edward Cullen brings sexy back. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXVI

Buffy rolled slightly in her sleep, cheek finding a cool, muscular bicep and smoky scented black tee shirt as she did. Her nose wrinkled, she frowned, then smiled, then frowned again. Beside her, Spike sat asleep, relaxed and motionless. Around them, three figures twitched and grunted in sleep, and a fourth, Tara, lay peacefully still.

"I could lay like this forever." Buffy murmured sleepily.

"I really wish you wouldn't. Could you wake up instead?" A frightened and insistent whisper invaded her ear.

Buffy's eyes popped open and she rolled over. "Anya? What are you doing in my dorm room?" She began to sit up and then gasped silently. She lay still, huddling under the blanket.

"Just be glad I'm here! You were going to sleep through the whole thing, geez!"

"I don't want to get up." Buffy pulled the covers more firmly up over her shoulders, concealing herself. Concealing everything. "I'm not really in charge of any of this." She resolutely closed her eyes. _No. I'm here where it's safe and warm and we're protected. No one's going to force us up and out . We already did the big fight scene. I get to rest._

Anya wasn't dissuaded. She continued to whisper. "Buffy, you have to wake up right away! Please wake up. Oh please..." Her tone was becoming more anxious.

Buffy sighed and opened her eyes. "I need my beauty sleep. So stop it, okay?" She rolled onto her back, shaking her head at the selfishness of some people. She rested her head on the pillow- and shrieked.

Above the bed was a snarling warrior woman, somehow braced against the ceiling.

* * *

><p>Buffy blinked and gasped loudly, jerking awake and blinking into the sunshine pouring through her bedroom blinds. "Huh?" This wasn't her dorm, it was her house on Revello Drive. "Why am I-<p>

-in here?" Buffy found her perspective shifted again, now looking at the bed from her doorway. The covers were lumpy and wrinkled and she sighed. "Faith and I just made that bed!"

Riley came up behind her, slipping his arm affectionately around her waist, kissing her ear. "No, Baby- Faith and _I_ made it. Afterwards. Of course... it is kinda hard to tell the difference. You know? You're exactly the same inside."

"We are not!" Buffy shoved Riley away angrily.

_No- she knew her place. She tried it your way. She went to the darkness. See what you'll become?_ A whispering voice echoed inside Buffy's head.

"I'm not like her! She went to the darkness because she_ wouldn't_ let us help her, not because she did!"

"Who are you talking to?" Riley leaned in the doorway.

"I-" Buffy looked at the bed, still rumpled, with a sense of panic. "No one. No one's here. Just go, Riley. You don't belong in this room anymore. I have to- I have to make the bed." She tried to push him from the room, finally managing to get him through the door, shutting it, ignoring the worried look on his face. "Go! I have things to do!"

"Buffy- wait!" Riley fell back into the hall, just as it turned into a gaping split in a background of concrete.

"NOOO!" Buffy screamed, and watched the hole swallow him. "Riley! No, that wasn't supposed to happen, that wasn't-"

_See? All of them leave you. You will push them away. You'll destroy all of them._

Buffy let out a shaking breath and glared into the empty room. "You're really starting to piss me off. You don't know anything about me."

_I _am_ you._

"First off- no way in hell. Second, if you were, then you know there's one guy who's not going to leave me. You can't kill him. I _won't_ kill him. Two fell, but I saved the third." The sobbing sound worsened in her own voice as she relived the moment Angel disappeared into the portal of Acathla, the moment Riley fell into the pit Willow created, and the breath taking, heart saving moment when she pulled Spike to safety, three of the most difficult choices she'd ever made.

_They tell you pretty lies... You begin to believe them... But your place is alone._ A voice that sounded vaguely familiar resounded in Buffy's mind, spurring her into a heated denial.

" I do know my place! I've _lived_ in that lonely place, I did just what I was supposed to do! I killed off every other lover I had, or every other lover left me. I pushed every one of them away- but not him. Even if I killed him- I bet you anything he'd find a way to come back. He won't leave!" Buffy glared at the invisible speaker. She yanked open the door again- this time a desert confronted her, not the hall, not the concrete gape. "Now- get out! Go home, to your home, not _mine_! I need to make the bed!" Buffy slammed the door and kicked it hard for good measure.

"For who?"

Buffy whirled around again, supremely annoyed at this constant appearance of strange visitors in her own bedroom. Tara was standing timidly in the far left corner of her room. She opened her mouth a couple times, shaking her head, and then slowly approached. "Uh, I thought you were here to tell me."

Tara shook her head silently.

Buffy looked at the bed, the doorway, and back at Tara. "The guys aren't here, are they? We were gonna hang out and watch movies, and -"

"You lost them." Tara interrupted.

" No." Buffy cocked her head in confusion. "No. I think they need me to find them." She looked at the clock. "7:30! It's so late!" She ran to her closet, feelings of worry hurrying her along.

" Oh ... that clock's completely wrong. Here." Tara held out the elemental card Buffy had used earlier, Manus, and a small gold pocket watch.

"I'm never gonna use those." Buffy refused to touch them. "I know, Tara. I know what they do."

"You think you know ... what's to come ... what you are. You haven't even begun." Tara corrected gently.

Buffy frowned, avoiding the subject. "I really need to fix this room before I go out, Tara."

"Then let me help." Tara stepped forward.

"No, I'll do it. Alone." Buffy stepped between her and the bed.

"You don't want to be alone, do you?" Tara asked softly.

"I- I'm not." Buffy choked out, shielding the rumpled the linens.

"Who's in there with you?" Tara smiled.

"It's- it's just Mr. Gordo. Look, Tara-" Buffy swallowed uncomfortably, "I really need to hurry, can you wait downstairs? I have to get changed, too. Then I promise, I'll go look for them."

Tara slipped silently to the doorway. "As long as you find them before dark. She hunts in the dark..."

Buffy sank down on the edge of the bed, hand to heart. She threw back the covers with an exasperated sigh. "How can you sleep through everything that's going on?" She demanded to the ivory figure concealed there.

"I didn't, Pet." Spike sat up, crooked smile on his leering face. "Heard it all. I'm the stuffed animal now?"

"No... well- you _are_ kind of a pig." Buffy giggled and let him prowl his hands up to her sides, leaning away from him- which only made her lean back onto the bed.

"In the mood for pork?" Spike purred.

"Don't be such a jerk. You know I want to stay here with you, but- I have to go find my friends." Buffy kissed him guiltily, struggling away. Spike looked hurt, then shrugged resignedly.

"I'll come with you."

"No. You have to hide. People are looking for you."

Spike smirked. "People already know, Luv. They know exactly where I am."

Buffy bit her lip. "She wants to take you from me." She finally confessed hoarsely. "She wants to take all of them away from me. You'll be safe here."

"And where will _you_ be safe?" Spike demanded.

"Nowhere. But- if she can't take you, at least I'll have something to stay safe _for._" She stroked his cheek. "Isn't that why we're in love? So we have something worth staying alive for? Undead for?"

"That's not the only reason." Spike captured her mouth briefly.

"I need you." Buffy murmured, head drooping under the weight of her admission. "I need you safe."

"I'll be safe. She already tried, Luv. Don't think she wants to pull the trigger herself. She wants you to do it. But you already did that once, an' you aren't gonna do it again."

"I can't. I can't." Buffy shook her head hard. "But she's not the only one. Riley's out there."

"But I'm wearin' your gift, Pet." Spike pointed to his pale, naked chest.

"You're not wearing _anything._" Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Heart- look at me. Look at me. What is your gift?"

Buffy looked into his eyes, hypnotized. "Death is my gift." She whispered in a choked voice.

"Look inside." Spike pressed her hand into his pectoral muscle, hard, harder, until she cried out and they both felt blood running freely down her palm, pooling on the bed.

"Baby- please, don't make me hurt another one." Her choked sound came out with an edge of hysteria.

"No, no- it's like you said one night, the only way to rebuild somethin' is to destroy somethin' completely. Build new. Look at my new pretties." Spike smiled through an obvious grimace and her hand sunk inside.

"What's this for?" Buffy pulled out a small silver key.

"To save your life." Spike breathed.

"Oh." Buffy tucked it back inside his chest. "Then what's this for?" She held up a small black chip, broken wiring coming out of it.

"To save mine." He curled her fist around it. "You did that for me. Don't know who did the other bit. But I give 'em both to you. Only- I gotta hide this for awhile." He ran their joined hands up over his bleeding wound and it sealed shut, the key concealed once again. "That you can keep."

Buffy looked at the tiny piece of plastic and back at Spike. "Don't you need this?"

"Not really." He shrugged. "I've got willpower. That kept the demon in. But so does this." Spike's aura flared up until it overwhelmed him, only a faint ring of darkness surrounding it. It then mellowed back down until the aura was a circle evenly divided, the stormy blue of his eyes and a black well of inkiness haloing his form.

"No one's perfect, though. We all slip." Buffy frowned and hesitated, still looking at the chip.

"Oh, yeah. I don't think that matters though."

"Doesn't matter? Are you stupid?" Buffy glared.

"No, I'm evil. Bad. That little hunk of wirin' never made less bad, Pet. It merely meant I couldn't act on it."

"So what's gonna make you be good now?"

"Don't think I'll ever be 'good'." Spike lay back, arms crossed under his head. He reached forward and slowly took Buffy's hand, bringing the crimson soaked fingers deliberately to his lips. "I'm still a vamp, aren't I?"

Buffy shivered as his tongue caressed her fingertips in the most erotic way possible. "Uh-huh." She responded breathlessly.

"Still- for the right motivation- I might behave."

"What's the right motivation?"

"Would you leave me if I were bad?" Spike sucked her finger into his mouth and gazed deeply into her eyes.

"I haven't yet." Her conscious stabbed her and she told it to take a flying leap off a very high building. _I don't care if he's bad. I care that he loves me. Love isn't right or wrong or good or bad, it's just love, damn it._

"Would you stake me through the heart if I went back on the hunt?" The vampire mask dropped down over his chiseled features.

Buffy regarded him unflinchingly. "No. I think- I think I'd just-" Buffy gasped as Spike's chest opened up again, blood slowly weeping out, one red tear at a time. "Spike!"

"Don't look at _me_, Heart. You're the one that's doin' it." Spike nodded to her stained shirt as scarlet soaked into it.

"What's happening?" Buffy clutched his chest, not her own.

"I think your heart would break. Would bleed."

"If you killed? Yeah..." She swallowed. "I guess I'd have to- you know." She mimed staking his chest. "Poof."

And you're my Heart, aren't you?" He dragged his fingertips over the line of blood welling on his chest. "If you dust me-" He pointed to the trickle on her shirt that had become a torrent. "Well, it's not gonna happen. It never could. I can't bleed you. Not like that. An' I can't break you. No one ever will." They shared a heated look.

"Are you saying for my sake you'd-"

"Not sayin' anything. Don't have to." He pointed from her chest to his, invisible string joining them, turning visible, a thin, shining, crimson rope. "We don't talk about the deal we had, the 'no strings attached' that somehow attached pretty bloody good. But there it is. That's all the motivation I need."

"Love?" Buffy shook her hear doubtfully. "That's never been enough for any of the others."

"I'm not _like_ any of the others." He smirked smugly.

Buffy regarded him, sitting back and peering at him intently. "I have to trust in myself? Love again? You expect me to trust you?" She shook her head doubtfully.

"I think you already do." Spike, still vampiric in features, leaned forward suddenly and dragged her back to him. He let out that low rumbling sound so often heard in battle, and then brushed his ridged forehead to her smooth, unlined one.

"I shouldn't."

"Shoulds and shouldn'ts die an early death around here."

"So will I." Buffy bit her lip, stroking his hairline tentatively.

His face melted slowly into place. "Not if you don't go it alone."

"I'm supposed to be alone."

"Yeah, well, we're supposed to kill each other. I don't wanna do that. In here. You don't either. In here."

Buffy nodded slowly, frowning, cocking her head gradually. "Spike- I don't think _anything_ is the way it's supposed to be in here."

"I know. And guess what?"

"What?"

"I don't think anything is the way it's supposed to be out _there_, either." He chuckled grimly.

"Probably not." She chuckled more lightly. "So what are we gonna do?"

They sat in silence for awhile.

_Choose love._ A permeating whisper filled the room.

"Oh God, is there some little waiter in here, too?"

Buffy frowned. "What?"

"That bloke with the cheese!"

"What are you talking about?" Buffy got hurriedly off the bed. "It's just Tara."

"Didn't sound like her- not exactly."

"She's just impatient. We have to go- do something." She pressed a hand to her ear as an almighty buzzing growl filled it, like three or four voices having an angry whispering argument. "What was I going to do again?" She asked in a confused voice as the buzzing wavered.

"Find your mates?" Spike was magically clothed and waiting by the door.

"Right! I have to go get them." Buffy was just as suddenly by the door, her shirt unblemished and chest uninjured. Her head cleared and she reached for the handle. "C'mon, you can probably track them with your weird vampire senses and -" Buffy fell silent as the doorway revealed a long college hallway. "Okay," she demanded in an extremely exasperated voice, "what the hell is wrong with this door? Spike, when you came in- Spike?"

Spike was gone.

"But he wouldn't leave me." Buffy murmured in a low, disbelieving voice.

"None of them would leave you." Tara's voice seemed to echo around her as she stepped into the crowded hallway, filled with rushing freshman and agitated seniors. "Doesn't mean she won't try to take all of them from you."

"Then why are you still here?" Buffy peered around the rush of bodies, all passing her, none of them even aware of her. Just like a Slayer- in the world, but not really part of it. Alone no matter how many people surround you.

"I was borrowed." A fleeting glimpse of Tara caught Buffy's eye and she ran towards her.

"Tara- wait!" Buffy snagged the elbow of the figure as it went around the corner. She drew back hastily when the girl turned to face her. "Oh. I'm- sorry. I thought you were someone else." Buffy apologized to the girl. She looked just like Tara. But as soon as Buffy touched her, she knew something wasn't right. And the look in her eyes- not quite human.

"It's okay." The Not-quite Tara smiled. "There are a lot of people with two faces in here."

"Two faces?"

"Or two voices. You really have to listen to your heart."

"Listen to my heart?" Buffy repeated, backing away slightly.

"Yeah. Sometimes you might even have to trust the people you know you shouldn't. Your heart is the only way to be sure. You have to choose stuff sometimes. Stuff that doesn't seem to make sense."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Buffy looked at her warily.

_Just a message from a friend._ The whispering voices were back, and the Almost-Tara disappeared like smoke in rain, leaving the girl alone in a crowd.

* * *

><p><em>That was incredibly risky.<em>

_He takes risks all the time, and so does your counterpart. That's how they've survived so long._

_But to invade the conduit- have it speak directly to her..._

_This is the final shadowland, and where Sineya would be the strongest._

_Buffy understands. She understood the vampire's words._

_Not fully. Even he didn't understand fully._

_No. No, I suppose that's true. I doubt anyone can ever truly understand the cleft souled unless they themselves possess a split aura as well._

_You see, then. She will understand him. He will understand her. And her friends- they already chose well._

* * *

><p>"Choose another one." Anya bounced excitedly on the dining room chair. She was practicing her modern female bonding rituals. Eating, gossiping, and now talking about intimate nonsensical things. She tried to interact with Buffy and Willow, but it was hard to break into that close knit unit. Joyce made it easy. She didn't have a unit exactly, and she didn't feel close o her daughter. Anya didn't have a mother to feel close to. In short- they were having fun. Girl's-night-in fun.<p>

"Okay...oh, no. That one's lewd. That one's- ugh, I can't believe they can ask that in a national magazine! Oh, here's one- 'Describe the most romantic date you've ever been on'." Joyce flipped the page of the magazine over. She and Anya had grown closer over the last few hours while their sleeping beauties slumbered on, and after chocolate and an obscene amount of snacking, a bottle of wine had come out, and ice cream, and now- finally, the ultimate female bonding exercise before deliberately watching sad movies- magazine quizzes.

"Ummm. Last month. We went to dinner and a movie, then the Bronze. Nothing attacked us, no one tagged along, I didn't say anything I wasn't supposed to, and Xander said he loved me. Then there was the two hours of insanely good multiple orgasm sex. But I know that makes you all pink in the face, so I won't tell you we did that."

Joyce coughed, flushed, and swigged her wine, before she looked at her quizzically. "That's romance when you're 19, huh?"

"It is when you don't have a lot of money and you're in love." Anya looked over to the sleeping forms and sighed. "When you're in love- you might want everything to be perfect, but you don't _need_ everything to be perfect. That's for people who can't do it the hard way. Now, Buffy and Angel- I would have thought they could handle anything. You can't get more imperfect than that, but they still loved each other. Or, at least they used to."

Joyce examined her ornate fashion ring, the one from the gallery, the one replacing her wedding band. An interesting concept from the peculiarly pointed young woman with her. If it's easy- then maybe the love isn't as strong as it is when everything is messed up. That surely had been the case in her life. The first crack, the first sign of Buffy being "different" and Hank started 'working late', and she started being hyper-mother.

Still, the situation with Angel- there was nothing to excuse it, no amount of real love or perfection, or even the romanticized notions of teenaged girls with superpowers and tragic destinies could make _that_ love affair okay. "I'm glad Buffy's finally over him. Time apart, it heals almost anything." Joyce smiled crookedly at her hands.

"Oh, no, not that." Anya waved the words away and flipped through the magazine she held. "He was here last week."

"What?" Joyce's voice was sharp and deadly. "Do you mean to tell me she's been carrying on with him behind my back, after all-"

"Ease your maternal rage." Anya placated. "He came up because he had a friend with visions or something. He was fighting one bunch of demons while Buffy and us fought another. He was terribly helpful apparently- until he wanted to talk."

"Did he try to win her back?" Joyce glared at something inside herself, the evil of older men, preying on young women. Young women who could've had a future if not for the existence of these stupid, stalking beasts in the first place.

"He said he loved her. Just could never be with her. Ha. Like that's love." Anya spat and downed her remaining half glass of red wine.

"He left her so she could have a normal life." Joyce corrected, more quickly than she should have, perhaps.

Anya shook her head. "That's what Xander told me she said, but I know that's just an excuse. I've _seen_ love. I've seen love that burned so badly it was worth risking the wrath of the most feared vengeance demon in five centuries. No- seriously, there's a voting ceremony and everything. I won, five centuries in a row, and second place for the 1400s." Anya preened slightly, then dropped that quickly because Joyce looked as though she were going to argue. And she looked fairly aghast at Anya's particular kind of bragging. "If he really loved her, he would have stayed for her. She's going to have a really hard, probably really short life. Wouldn't you stay and cherish every second of it if you loved the person?" Anya blinked away the thoughts that Xander, and now her- maybe all of them- would have short lives too, because of what they did, what they fought. "Mortals have to cherish every second. It's all so short..."

Joyce twirled her ring guiltily. "In Buffy's case, it wouldn't be so hard- or so ...so short-" she choked on the painful thought, " if not for things like him."

"But there_ are_ things like him. And she's going to fight them, with or without him. So- why not stay? Someone who's got super strength and a mission of redemption and atonement has to be an asset. Massive power and a butt load of guilt, plus- he owes her big time for terrorizing everyone in her life. I think he's a coward." Anya flipped another page and her eyes lit up. "Ooh! 'Twelve Ways to Make Your Hands Think Spring'! Can we paint our nails?"

Joyce refused to be distracted. "He did terrorize everyone. Especially her. And poor Rupert! Miss Calendar..." Joyce shook her head vehemently. "No. She didn't need him."

Anya put the magazine down slowly and looked into the older woman's eyes. "Isn't that her choice?" She asked softly.

"Sometimes people make wrong choices. Stupid choices." Joyce hissed bitterly.

"You know, Joyce... you're really smart, but you have a blind spot. You should always choose love if that's one of the choices. Your own choice- wanting to keep Buffy away from Angel- isn't that because you love her?"

"Of course it is! I want the best for her!" Joyce dropped her voice and leaned forward, furtively looking past Anya and into the darkened living room.

"Well... in that case you did good, 'cause he wasn't the best for her. Leaving her... I never smelled someone so broken hearted. Back when I was a demon, I mean. That's how you find the ones with the most creative wishes, you know. The ones who smell the angriest and most grief-stricken. But she was just broken-hearted, too sad to work up a good hate. Now that other one, Cordelia- she was just crazy spiteful."

Joyce blinked her eyes and squinched them tight, trying to block out a lot of old memories, trying not to focus on one little detail. Her daughter, even months and months later- had still been heartbroken because Angel left. And who asked him to leave? _You did the right thing, you did the right thing..._ She sipped her wine hurriedly. "She'll find someone else. More suitable. Someone like Xander."

"Not Xander!"

"No, just like Xander." Joyce soothed with a little grin.

"No... not _like_ him, either." Anya murmured thoughtfully. "He's the best boyfriend in the world- if you're normal. But Buffy's a freak."

"Watch your mouth!"

"She's a good kind of freak! But- but she's got two pieces in her soul. That's why she needed Spike." Anya explained simply.

"Needed Spike?" Joyce's eyes widened, rampant misinterpretation brewing.

"Remember? For the spell? He has two pieces, too. Although it's not his soul, vampires don't have souls, they have demons." Anya sighed. "Kinda miss that power. It was like having a nightlight inside. Or maybe being a demon and having part of my humanity inside was like the nightlight. Whatever. Mortality's empty- at least- without love."

Joyce studied her plate and the glossy magazine with vacant eyes. "There are lots of wonderful, normal boys out there, who- who wouldn't care if she's different. There are girls who have meaningful relationships, girls with disabilities and special gifts and-"

"Oh please are you kidding me? Men are falling over themselves to be with someone like Buffy. She's sexually very attractive and has a bust to hip proportion and large smile that radiate a certain desirability. She tries really hard to fit in with normal guys and they like her. Riley loved her."

"So many men say they love you, but-" Joyce laughed with an undercurrent of pain.

"That's the point though. She can't love them back. Not fully. There's nothing for the Slayer part. And that's the part she can't give up. Most slayers give up normal lives, according to Giles. The slayer part eats them up inside, until there's just nighttime and death and a severe lack of socializing." Anya shook her head mournfully. "Angel was one of the few in the world who had a human side and demon side- a superpower side. Demons don't have to be bad you know!" She felt the need to explain as Joyce shot her a searing look.

Joyce raised one brow slowly.

"I'm not lying! Some demons are just old powers manifested into the human form. There are a few demons who are harmless. Not vampires of course. Not_ me_ obviously. I was bad. Who am I kidding? I was_ amazing_." She preened.

Joyce smiled in spite of herself, tabling the unpleasant thoughts for a moment. "You are amazing, Anya. Very, very- unique. Xander's lucky."

"He says that. He also says he puts up with a lot." She smiled broadly and shook the magazine under Joyce's nose. "C'mon- nail painting relieves stress. It says so on the bottom of page 38."

Joyce bit her lip. "Oh what the heck. They're out cold."

"Exactly. We have time to kill." Anya and Joyce both stood up, wobbling and giggling as they made their way up the stairs. "You're a very good den mother, Joyce. Buffy's lucky to have _you_. You'd do anything in the world to make her happy. Because you love her. Even if she's a total weirdo with a cursed life and burdensome fate."

Joyce paused half way up the stairs, watching her daughter sleep, leaning against the still, pale man on the sofa. "I didn't do everything I could have. I wish I had. I wish she didn't have that 'split' inside. I wish-" she swallowed a mouthful of anger, resignation, and guilt, "I wish she'd find someone, even Angel, I guess, if that's the only one she could have ever found that complete feeling with, something for both parts of her soul. Most of all I wish- that my Buffy's always the same sweet baby girl inside. That the power you talk about never consumes her, like it did the others."

Anya had eyes only for Xander, but she darted a quick glance at Buffy. "It won't. She has something no other slayers have had. Friends. Family. People to love."

"That makes a difference? Even to someone with that power inside?"

"Oh yeah. Someone to love-" Anya rubbed her own chest slowly, meaningfully, as if she could feel her hardened heart softening more and more every second she spent looking at her sweetheart, "someone to love makes you stronger. And that's good in Buffy's line of work. She needs all the strength she can get. As long as she has people to care about- she'll never give up."

* * *

><p>Buffy felt like she'd been walking for hours but she persisted, asking every person she met, "Have you seen my friends?"<p>

They all shook their heads and walked on, in silence.

Her desperation was complete. She liked having something to hit, something to fight. Something to _find_ was just- sucky. "They wouldn't just disappear." She finally cried in exasperation.

"Oh, no, Honey, of course not."

"Mom? Mom! What are you doing in there?" Buffy raced down the hall where the school seemed to be breaking down, falling apart. She peered farther into the distance and squinted. The halls were turning into the damaged, burnt out shell of Sunnydale High. Past and present were squishing together, along with places and people. Buffy clutched the wall for support. Baser instincts wanted to take over. There was too much confusion in this world, and it would be so much easier just to- to hunt. To kill, to focus on one elite skill, and never worry about-

"Hi Sweetie." Joyce's serenely smiling face peered from a hole in the plastered wall.

"Mom, why are you living in the walls?" Buffy clutched at the broken wood surrounding her mother's face. The primal instinct disappeared, replaced by something just as strong. Love, protection. "C'mon you have to get out of here. Something- something's hiding where you can't see it and it'll- it'll find you."

"Oh, Sweetie, no, I'm fine here. Don't worry about me."

"But I do." She wrung her hands. "I hide a lot of stuff, but I don't want to. I just want you to be safe."

"It's very safe in here. "

Buffy looked inside the small opening. "It looks dirty." She looked frantically over her shoulder. "Mom, please, get out of there. I have to hide things from you- to protect you. A-and me. All of us. But you don't have to hide things from me."

"Oh, Honey." Joyce reached a hand to caress her daughter's cheek. "I already do."

Buffy stepped back, stung. "What?"

"Hm?" Joyce gave her a sweet, innocent smile.

"Never mind. I just think you're not safe here." Buffy looked down the hall. the destruction seemed closer now, like something was creeping, stalking.

"Well, it seems that way to you." Joyce continued to project that vague smile, continued reassuring with a motherly coo in her voice. "But it's not me she's after. Now, you run along. I made some lemonade, and I'm learning how to play mah-jongg. You go find your friends."

Buffy looked over her shoulder yet again. "I- I think they might be in danger."

Joyce let out a stifled chuckle and Buffy stared at her in confusion. "I-I'm sorry, dear." She giggled. "A mouse is playing with my knees."

Buffy thought she saw a flicker of glaring, glinting eyes through the wall boards, something around knee-level. Something hunting, prowling. "I- I really don't think you should live in there."

" Well ... you could ... probably break through the wall." Joyce finally conceded.

Buffy nodded, drawing back for a kick- and caught a fleeting glimpse of Xander heading up the stairs in the opposite direction, away from the destruction.

"Xander! Xander! I have to find him, Mom, hang on a second."

Buffy dashed off and Joyce sighed. She spoke to the mouse, the large, snarling mouse. "You go play with someone else. I don't have any cheese for you. Besides," Joyce turned from the wall, turning to her own living room, full of sleeping figures, a bestial woman, stone dagger drawn, lurking over them, "the walls are staying up. You don't have to be worried about me." Joyce walked slowly up the stairs, apparently unconcerned about the young people in peril. She'd always ignored the threats. She saw no reason to stop now.

* * *

><p>Buffy stopped following him when the stairs dissolved, leaving her in a cold, sterile office. "Damn." She hissed, and looked frantically for the brunette she'd been trailing.<p>

"What's wrong, Killer?" Riley's voice startled her and she flinched, turning once more- now facing a conference table that somehow hadn't been there just a second ago.

"Riley? You're back." Buffy went on the alert._ Riley's here and Spike's here. Spike's here someplace. He'll find him._

"I never left." Riley smiled at her from his seat at the head of the glass topped table.

"Yes, you did." She accused, a stab of pain in her chest.

"Nah. You left me." Riley's smile didn't reach his eyes. "That's okay. I've got a new mission."

"You do?" Buffy warily approached him and the other man who sat beside him, his head bowed over stacks and stacks of papers.

"Sure. We're drawing up a plan for world domination." He smiled at the dark haired, broad shouldered man across from him, and then back at Buffy, with that sweet, completely fresh-faced, Iowa-boy smile that had charmed her at first. "The key element? Coffeemakers that think."

"World domination? I-is that a good?" She tripped over the words, disarmed and worried at the same time.

"Baby, we're the government." He swung around, casually toying with a gun, smiling with a crafty gleam in his eye. "It's what we do."

"No! Riley- you can't- we just spent weeks fighting against-"

The other man looked up at her with melting dark eyes, formerly so hard, now so human, and she faltered.

Riley filled the silence. "You joined the other side, Buffy. I can, too." He slid the gun to the man beside him who left it resting on the glass table top.

"I never changed sides." Buffy ground out angrily. "You were the one who-"

"If you say you never changed sides, then I'm saying I never did either." Riley said firmly.

Buffy sighed. "Look- when you have big evil to deal with- like worlds ending or a psycho spirit is pulling your strings- you don't know what the sides are, exactly." She tried to reason with him. "But trying to rule the world is just a big wrong."

Riley stubbornly shook his head. "You might not know where the sides are, but you know there are lines you don't cross. And you-" He suddenly swung the gun off the table and pointed it at her chest. "crossed all of them."

Buffy watched the muzzle stray past her, and shook her head desperately. "The lines are invisible." She protested.

"That's right, Luv. That's how you know you're not alone. I'm right here. You jus' can't see me." Spike's voice breathed in her ear, and the sound of a gun went off.

Buffy screamed and took a step to the side, covering the space where her lover's voice seemed to come from. "No! Spike, no!"

But the gun had never fired at him.

Riley lay slumped over the table, bleeding slowly from the center of his chest, gun on the floor now. "Don't look so shocked, Buffy. You kill us all anyway. I just helped you out. 'Cause you're supposed to be alone. You can't really love, you know that, don't you?" He asked, a small rivulet of blood trailing over his chin as he spoke to her with glassy eyes.

"No! No, Riley! Riley don't do this." Buffy ran to his side pulling on his shoulders, heaving him off the table, cradling his head in her hands as it lolled back, empty eyed.

"You chose to save the other one. Again." The second man spoke softly, evenly, still bent over his papers.

"But- but he doesn't die! He didn't have to die." Buffy cried.

The other man spoke to Riley's body. "She's uncomfortable with certain concepts. It's understandable. Aggression is a natural human tendency." He looked up at Buffy, head still bent, eyes reaching hers from under dark brows. "Though you and me come by it another way."

Buffy heard the snarl but didn't turn around.

"I'm not a demon." She hissed, both to Riley and the oddly familiar stranger.

"You don't look like one." The man stood up. Buffy had a jolt of recognition. The face- she knew it. At least- part of it. "But then again- I didn't used to look like it either. Power comes from all sorts of invisible places."

"Adam!" Buffy gasped, and moved away.

"Oh, no. I'm not him. I don't remember my name. Do you remember yours?" He asked, pushing her gently from Riley's body.

"Buffy." She answered firmly, trying not to roll her eyes. An angry rattling hiss filled the air. "Buffy! Buffy Summers!"

"Hm. That's your outside. I was talking about your inside name." He slowly, tenderly lifted the body from her grasp.

"I- I'm the same inside and outside. I just have one name." She explained tremulously.

_No! Slayer! First to last, all the same. All alone. No names from parents, no names called by friends, no names from lovers' mouths. Slayer only. You have no other name, you are nothing else. Death is your gift. You kill. Your victims call you Slayer. No one else says your name. You lose it. You become only Slayer._

Buffy winced and backed up against the invisible assault. "No! I don't only kill! I slay, but I love! I have friends, I have parents, I have lovers! I have a name!"

"Yes. You tell her that. Sometimes it's better to blend- and sometimes-" The man who'd become Adam smiled sadly, "it's better to be alone. But you have to choose. You have to choose whatever doesn't consume you and turn you into a monster." He looked sadly at Riley. "He found out too late, didn't he?"

"I- I don't think he's a monster." Buffy whispered, reaching for his forehead as it hung over the edge of the strong arm.

"You really have to start looking more on the inside, Miss Summers." He smiled wanly. He nodded, and began to back away.

"Wait! Where are you taking him?" Buffy clung to his arm.

"He is my brother after all." The man said gravely, and bore Riley away.

"Your-"

"Not biologically, of course. But you know all about that, don't you, Miss Summers?" He nodded towards the door that appeared at the far end of the conference room. "Didn't you come up here-" Xander suddenly cut across her line of vision, as if he'd been walking across the room the entire time, and slipped through the door- "looking for your own Big Brother?"

"Xander!" She cast one last despairing look at the body in Adam's arms, and ran towards the door, reaching it just as it closed. She yanked it open and stumbled in- head jerking up in puzzlement when she realized he wasn't in the room with her.

"But I just saw him." She murmured.

"Ah, but this place is like a soddin' Rubik's cube. Line up all the doors and give it a twist, walk in on some other completely random hellhole." Spike came up behind her.

"Where the heck have you been?" Buffy demanded in relief, taking his hand.

"With you, Pet. You just couldn't see me. But we're all here with you."

"Who's we?" She asked.

"Are you two quite finished? I'd like to get started." Giles' voice jarred Buffy out of her tete a tete with Spike and she turned to see where they were and who was with them.

The Bronze. But deserted. Sort of. Buffy knew people were there, everywhere, she just couldn't see them. Except for Giles. She could see him. Setting up his acoustic, propping it on his knee as he perched on a single bar stool in a blue spotlight.

"I'd like to play my closing piece, as I am about to die in-" He looked at a small gold pocket watch, "another ten minutes? So please hold your applause until the end, and I'm afraid no requests tonight." He smiled and strummed, nodding to Buffy.

Buffy gasped and tried to run to her Watcher, but Spike held her back. "Spike, let me go, he's bleeding, his head's all bloody!"

"I know, Slayer, but the blow was already struck. What we have to do now is find the one who did it."

"I know who did it. I know exactly what she wants. All I have to do is find her, and then- Slayer Smackdown. Smart money on me, she of the way pissed off team."

"Do you know where she is?"

"No... Yes. Sort of. She's always around me, but all she does is hiss and whisper."

"So prolly-" Spike looked into the darkness, "she needs you to do somethin', needs you for somethin'. Otherwise she'd either off you or leave you alone. What does she want, Pet?"

Buffy stared deep into his eyes. "She wants everything." She whispered. "Including you."

"She can't have me. Not for sale." Spike smirked. "Belong to you, don't I?"

Buffy gave him a tiny crooked smile. "I'm pretty sure that's going on our 'secret things we never tell anyone' list."

"Yeah- but no one gives a damn in here. An' there's no one in here. Exactly. So-can I dance with you, Slayer?"

"No! We don't dance! Giles is watching for one thing!" Buffy cried in stage whisper, blushing.

"Is it a line we don't cross?"

"If we want to stay a secret, yeah!" Buffy hit his arm.

"Oh, we all know. And this is your last dance." Giles continued his melodic strumming, but hadn't begun to sing yet. "Literally your last dance."

"But-" Buffy turned from Giles to look into Spike's darkly humorous blue eyes and almost shrieked instead.

"C'mon, Buff." Angel smiled down at her, the fake, insincere smile she'd come to associate with Angelus on his face. "You don't want to make the same mistake twice do you? Last dances are our thing, aren't they?"

"Get off of me!" Buffy shoved him away. "I don't want you in here anymore!" She rasped, shocked at her own words, how easily they'd come out.

Angel growled softly and stepped back into darkness, walking away. He glared at her until the shadows swallowed him.

Spike tapped her shoulder from behind. "You know, they're playin' their cards real well tonight. Hate to play poker with these bastards, whoever they are."

"Yeah, but they had a good point. I don't want to make the same mistake twice. You're not leaving, and I'm not letting this last dance be our only dance." She took him firmly by the wrist and they walked to the middle of the deserted floor as Giles began to play a pulling, familiar pattern on his strings. "I still don't think this is right."

"Shh, Baby. It's gonna be fine. Soon." Spike whispered.

Giles began to sing.

* * *

><p><em>So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,<em>

_blue skies from pain._

_Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?_

_A smile from a veil?_

_Do you think you can tell?_

"I don't understand a lot of this stuff." Buffy confessed softly.

"I know. Me neither." They swayed to the sadly sweet twang of the guitar. "I think they do that on purpose y'know."

"Why?"

"To confuse you. To protect you. Both. Depends on who wins, I guess." He shrugged, stepping slowly with her, looking at the sweet tanned face he'd gone from hating to loving.

_And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?_

"Everything is wrong. The bad guys are good guys and people have two faces and two voices. The good guys are bad guys and I'm not supposed to be with anyone." Buffy felt tears prickling under her lids.

_Hot ashes for trees?_

_Hot air for a cool breeze?_

_Cold comfort for change?_

"You're not supposed to be with me, that's for damn sure. I'm your cold comfort. Nothing more."

"That changed. We don't talk about it all the time, but it changed." Buffy insisted.

_And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?_

"The world's changed. Someone's just not happy about it."

"No one else ever gets into this little world. That's why." Buffy reached up hesitantly and touched his face, loving the way his cool, unyielding skin arched into her warm, supple palm, like he could never get enough of her touch. "Then you came in. I'm not alone anymore."

Giles struck a power chord, and wailed, wailed his heart out.

_How I wish, how I wish you were here._

_We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,_

_Running over the same old ground._

_What have you found? The same old fears._

"You'll never be alone again. I promised."

"But there are lines-"

"Erase them."

Buffy bowed her head to his chest and whispered. "It's not that simple."

"Sure it is. Listen to your heart- better yet- listen to mine." He caressed her hair and pressed her face gently to his silent ribs.

"What's in you?" Buffy finally whispered.

"Haven't you guessed yet?"

"A key- but what's it made of?"

"Dunno. Whatever it is, it's brand spankin' new, built just for me."

Buffy slid her hand over the hard ridges under his shirt. "What's it open?"

"No, no, you keep asking the wrong questions. What's it lock, that's what's important."

"Why would you keep anything locked? You like to break and enter."

"I like to keep secrets just as much, Pet. You know _that_, don't you?" He winked.

"So you won't tell me?" She pouted.

"No, I'll tell you. Soon as I figure the damn thing out m'self. You're the only one I share secrets with."

_How I wish, how I wish you were here._

_We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,_

_Running over the same old ground._

_What have you found? The same old fears._

The verse repeated, Giles playing his heart out, eyes closed and head back, giving it all he had.

"Do you think Giles is trying to tell us something?" Buffy murmured, snuggling deeper into the slow dance.

"Prob'ly. These Watcher types. They live to tell us what's in some old book or scroll. Don't think he'll find the name though, the name of my key. Don't think it had one." He stroked her hair.

"You don't act different. I thought this was something huge and big deal-y. Shouldn't we feel different?"

Spike rolled his eyes at the obvious folly. "Hell no, you silly bitch, we wouldn't, would we? 'Specially not me. If I did- it'd be a dead give away. Gotta learn to play the game, Slayer. Gotta learn to hide."

She raised her head and nodded slowly. "I'll help you."

"We'll help each other. Except for one more little thing." He took a step away from her.

Spike was magically several yards away, waiting at a door just off the stage. "I'll be waiting when you get there." He winked.

Buffy was moving to him rapidly, consternation pouring off of her. "But you're coming with me."

Spike opened the door with wince at the brightness coming hot, desert sun. "Sorry. I'm a bit different, but I still can't go out in that."

Buffy gaped. "Whoa. What the hell is going on?"

"Big things to do- big places to go." He guessed.

"So... I guess we split up?" Buffy felt a gnawing inside her at those words.

"I'll be right with you."

"But I'm going alone. I have to go alone." She shook her head as she said the words. _No. No, I don't ever want to be alone again!_

"You won't be, Slayer." Spike's smile was frozen in place, words speaking from his mind directly to hers, no mouth seemed to be required.

"I don't want to be alone." Buffy repeated, aloud this time. "But I get it. There're some things you have to do on your own, but-"

"But you don't see it yet, do you, you sweet girl? I'm not gone. Just out of sight. You'll find me again." Spike squeezed her hand, and stepped away from the sunlight, into the curtains covering the back of the stage.

Giles sang one last haunting phrase as he vanished as well.

"Wish you were here..."

* * *

><p><em>What happened? The two powers found themselves cast out into a nameless darkness, hovering in a collective void, created from the many shadowlands made by their sleeping hosts.<em>

_She shut us out! She crossed into Sineya's realm._

_I thought she was less vocal than she had been in the others._

_She plays the game expertly. She stalks. She preys. She lured her spirit daughter to her._

_Finally she got what she wanted. She has her isolated. Her friends and lover are cut off._

_Haven't you been paying attention? They're always there. They just can't be seen. That's what happens what you love someone._

* * *

><p>Buffy walked into the twinkling sunlight, the hot sand under her sandaled feet. She followed the patterns the wind made in the sand, walking for miles over dunes. "I'm never gonna find them here." She finally sighed, and gazed woefully out over an ocean of nothing but heat and barren land.<p>

"Of course not. That's the reason you came."

Buffy slowly turned her head. "Tara? Real Tara?" She squinted into the sun, looking at the pale blonde in a a colorful, flowing tunic, her hair done up in a twist, looking like some Eastern reincarnation of a goddess.

"Me." Tara smiled faintly, worry under her eyes as she materialized closer to her friend.

"You're not in my dream." As soon as she said the words, Buffy knew. For the first time in hours, puzzle pieces connected, although they in no way fit. It was only a dream. But it was a Slayer dream, and those dreams... well, there's a reality prize inside every box.

"At least you realized it was a dream." Tara praised. "And you're right. I was borrowed. Someone has to speak for her."

Buffy heard the swish of feet on sand, so silent, only a slayer could have heard it. And that made sense, because two slayers were about to face off.

"Let her speak for herself." She turned hardening eyes on the ragged figure crouching behind Tara. "That's what's done in polite circles."

The woman stepped forward, and Buffy saw her fully, not just glimpses and shadows. A young woman, skin unlined, dark and caked in war paint, protection and camouflage. Her hands were curled in permanent fists, the price for hours and hours of sheathing weapons in her palms. Her clothes were mere mummy strips of white fabric. The girl had little. She had loneliness, death, and anger. She lived as though she was preparing to die, every inch of her radiated the adrenaline and pained anxiety of someone fighting their final battle.

"Why do you follow me?" Buffy asked softly.

With a grunt, her head shook in response.

Tara spoke for her. "I don't."

"Where are my friends?" Buffy insisted.

The woman backed away, crouching ever lower, coiling to spring soon.

"You're asking the wrong questions." Tara warned softly.

" Make her speak." Buffy crossed her arms and stared down the cavewoman facing her.

The creature shook her head vehemently.

Tara's soft dulcet tones continued with the woman's words, voice and words completely incongruous. "I have no speech. No name. I live in the action of death,

the blood cry, the penetrating wound."

Buffy and the first of her kind locked eyes. Tara continued to speak. "I am destruction. Absolute ... alone."

Buffy frowned, finally addressing her directly. "The Slayer."

"The First." Tara specified on her behalf.

Buffy held out her hands, suddenly full. The elemental cards filled them, representations of all the parts of herself, mind, spirit, power, heart, hand, the need for balance, the need for an anchor. "I'm not alone." She flipped over the cards, one after the other, seeing the faces of her loved ones. "I needed them. They became part of me today. But they were already part of me. Is that why you're so wigged?" She shuffled the cards and turned the top one over, as if presenting it to her nemesis-slash-benefactor, reading her future. The top card showed all of them in her mother's living room, all asleep, close to one another, at peace, in safety, with one another. "You don't like that I have all these people, all these parts? Heart, mind, spirit, and the awesome vamp-dusting hands? You don't like that I need something else besides my stake to survive in this world?" She asked softly but pointedly.

"The Slayer does not walk in this world." Tara admonished.

"I walk. I talk. I shop, I sneeze. I'm gonna be a fireman when the floods roll back." She got a strange, little girl smile on her face, remembering some parts of a childhood dream inside her symbolic nightmare. The First Slayer glared at her in anger, chin lifting in defiance, jaw clenching. Buffy ignored her, looking past her, at the sandy void she inhabited. "There's trees in the desert since you moved out. And I don't sleep on a bed of bones. I have a name. And many people call it, parents, Watcher, friends, and lover. Everything I'm sorry you didn't have." Buffy gave her a sad smile before her voice hardened. "Now give me back my friends."

The First Slayer's lips moved for the first time. Beside her, Tara gasped and clutched at her chest as if something had knocked the air from her. "No! No friends! Just the kill. We. Are. Alone!"

"Not me." Buffy clutched the top card tightly and pulled it close to her chest.

"Then you die. I win. I choose power. You choose weakness!" She lunged and Buffy fell hard to the sand, one hand still fixed on the card, gasping up at the one who came to be known as Sineya crouched above her.

"Ladies, ladies, why choose? Have my two for one special."

Buffy blinked in the sun and turned her head. "The little waiter guy?" She mumbled as a balding man in glasses proffered a tray with two limp slices of yellow cheese on it.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Okay. That's it. I'm waking up now."

Behind them, Tara gasped and coughed, then spoke, a breathy gasp turning more solid. "I have the power. I am she who gave you your power." Tara was speaking for her again, as the woman's energy was tied up in tackling Buffy and bashing her head to the desert floor.

Buffy rolled her over, kicking and trading blows as she hissed. "You gave it to me, lady, so I still have it!" She pinned her. But just as easily, she was pinned.

Tara's voice continued. "You won't wake up until I say. This is your dream, but you called me to it. And I am spirit, I am radiant power made flesh. I control this realm."

"Whatever. You control this realm, but you don't control me. Not all of me. Not really any of me." Buffy pried her off and stood, shaking dust from herself as they circled. "That's why you're so pissed off." They mirrored each other, move for move, which made sense. They had the same strength, the same instincts. Only the strength was drawn from different sources now. The instincts weren't for survival alone, not anymore. Buffy grinned triumphantly, and Sineya's eyes widened briefly before narrowing to slits.

"I just learned how to play the game." Buffy winked. "I choose love. And love is that power. Hey! Gimme the two for one special!"

"Finally! Coming up!" The small man reappeared at the edge of the battle circle, and tossed his silver tray to Buffy, cheese slices flying behind it, leaving it bare.

"I'm going home." Buffy informed her counterpart firmly, seizing the tray, slamming it down on the ground. " Everything has two faces." She smiled and looked at her reflection in the silver shining like glass. A warrior, covered in mud and with lowered brows. A face ready for killing stared back at her. "Sorry. I learned how to hide that. And I learned- that everyone you love- is always with you, even if you can't see to test this theory." She took a deep breath, and took a risk. "Guys? Little help?" Buffy turned from Sineya and shouted into the mirrored surface.

"Gotcha Buff!" Four hands reached up, as Xander's voice spoke. Buffy found herself pulled through the looking glass, and crash landed on her mother's floor, surrounded by sleeping friends once more.

"Well- that was weird." Buffy shook her head and rolled onto her back preparing to get up.

"I can't hold her!" Tara's voice was a frantic whisper, and then two figures crashed through, into the room. Tara's form merged seamlessly with her sleeping body, and Sineya snarled as she landed over Buffy.

"You call on them. Again. Always them." She grunted.

"They always bring me back to myself." She looked over at Spike. "All of myself. Slayer parts, too. It doesn't have to be the way it was for you." She tried to sit up, but her shoulders were pinned by Sineya's knees. "Love is the ultimate power, supes up anything, even what we have."

"You will have nothing. I have all their threads. The three most dear. And you brought me to them. Your realm. I can snap them with a single blow."

Buffy felt a strange peace settling over her as she watched Sineya draw a long, cruel looking stake, holding it high above her head. "No. It's over." She swung her knees up suddenly and hit her opponent in the back, making her lurch forward. "We don't do this anymore. This alone stuff." There was a grapple for the stake and both women refused to back down. "Enough!" Buffy shouted.

* * *

><p>Buffy blinked at the sudden rapid change of perspective. <em>Seriously, I should be used to this by now.<em>

She wasn't on the floor anymore, she was sitting on the couch, head against Spike. She gasped and sat up hurriedly. She counted her friends, all as they should be, all asleep. She groaned and shook her head, easing herself away from Spike and standing.

A low growl assaulted her ear, and Buffy found herself on her back again. This time Sineya didn't speak, didn't waste time. She plunged the stake unmercifully into Buffy's heart, looking around the room as she did, as if waiting to see the deaths of those she held captive in their own dreamlands.

No one even stirred.

"Can you take this thing out of me? It's pokey." Buffy complained , slightly whiney.

A howl of rage and the stake plunged again.

"Okay, ow." Buffy rolled her eyes and looked bored.

The howl intensified and the stabbing happened six times in quick succession. "You screwed up." Buffy finally sighed, and pushed her off. Sineya paused. "Okay, here's how it works when you love someone- they love you back. I chose them." Buffy looked around the room with shining eyes. "But they chose me, too." She patted her chest where the stake had plunged but left no wound. "Stake all you want, lady, but you're never gonna hit the heart. Too well protected. I saved them tonight. And they saved me. You aren't taking anyone away from me. I'll never be alone, like you were."

Seething with impotent rage, a type of rage she'd never experienced, Sineya hacked and thrust away.

Buffy lay her head back on the floor with a huff of impatience. " Are you quite finished?"

Sineya paused, panting from her exertions.

"It's over, okay? I'm going to ignore you, and you're going to go 're really gonna have to get over the whole ... primal power thing." She gently pushed her off and stood, straightening her shirt and shaking out her hair. She sauntered to the sofa, feeling the First Slayer's wide, incredulous eyes following her. "You're _not_ the source of me." She scooted back into place, giving Spike a nudge and he shifted in his sleep, arms automatically widening to make room for her. She snuggled in and glared pointedly at her attacker. "You give me strength. You gave me a destiny. Thanks. But once you give a gift- it's done. It's up to the one with the present to decide how to use it. I promise- I'm taking good care of it. Better than ever. And I'm the only one to have it for this long. It's because of how I live, what I chose. What I choose." She laid her head to Spike's shoulder, and reached out and touched Giles' hand as it shook on the arm of his chair. "You don't always get the chance, but if you do- choose love."

Sineya stood, glowering, but unmoved.

"Oh, fine." Buffy sighed and shook her head. "If you're gonna stand there, we might as well talk. Especially if you're going to hang out in my 'realm'. Let's talk appearance first, then we'll move on to social skills. In terms of hair care, you really wanna say, what kind of impression am I making in the workplace? 'Cause-"

Buffy snuffled and sat up. _I'm awake. I'm actually awake. Right? No Sineya. Sounds of laughter and voices upstairs._

Beside her, Spike woke, looked around and saw the others stirring, and hastily shoved Buffy an acceptable distance away.

_Yep. Definitely awake._ Buffy rubbed at her head and blearily looked at her friends."Uh- sleep well?" Buffy asked hesitantly, thoughts churning in her head, dreams fading and blurring, mind trying to process a million things.

Tara said nothing, just took Willow's hand and held it in a death grip. Willow rubbed her throat, and looked urgently around.

"Oh, God... never eat half a bag of cheesy chips after a big spell, huh?" Xander laughed and looked around with a falsely bright smile. _How much of that was real?_

"Crazy dreams, yeah, man." Willow laughed nervously. "Um- um- did anyone else have a scary jungle woman chasing them and sneaking up on them?"

Giles cleared his throat, putting his glasses back on with a weary hand. "I do believe that was the -uh- the first slayer. Historians call her Sineya."

"Crazy bitch." Spike groused.

"Not big with the socialization." Xander shivered and rubbed his chest.

"Or the floss." Willow added, looking furtively at Spike and Buffy. In her dream- those two were so simply in love. Undeniably, simply in love, despite all the complications.

Giles avoided everyone's eyes. His own dream, the dream within the dream, his headlong rush into the future, made him feel like a voyeur in someways. Knowing more about his friends' lives than they would know for years. He remained his usual, precise sounding self, not wanting to give anything away. Not yet. Maybe not ever. " Somehow our joining with Buffy and- and invoking the essence of the- the Slayer's power was an affront to the source of that power."

"You know, you could have brought that up to us _before_ we did it." Buffy grumbled.

" I did. I said there could be dire consequences." He protested.

" Yes, but you say that about chewing too fast." She rolled her eyes. "So you all got a - a little taste of first slayer-ness?" She chewed the inside of her cheek.

"Had enough slayers to do me a life time. A death time, even." Spike reached for a cigarette and Buffy slapped at his hand. He kept it out, but didn't light it.

"I never really thought about- about how this started." Buffy realized. "About what's inside me." She shivered. Spike made a lewd smirk but quickly swallowed it.

"That person isn't inside you. She was the first imbued with the power, but she is _not_ the power." Giles said firmly, taking her hand.

"Are you guys finally up?" Anya's loud voice broke the moment of meaningful silence as she shouted down the stairs.

"Yes!" Xander and Willow shouted.

"You were out forever!"

"Kinda nearly! First Slayer tried to kill all of us in our sleep!" Xander called.

"WHAT?" Joyce screeched. Light footsteps speed walking angrily towards the stairs could be heard overhead.

"Crap." Buffy jumped up. "Don't tell her about this, it's only going to freak her out! Besides, it's just a dream, right?"

There was a single beat of silence before they did what they so often did.

Say what worked best, and worry inside. Knowing a lot you don't say you know.

"Sure. You just keep your Slayer friends out of my dreams. Is that clear?" Xander shook his finger at her in his best imitation of a stern teacher.

"Yes, Sir. Big brother." Buffy grinned. Xander's jaw dropped and hastily shut. They exchanged a furtive glance, both thinking the same thing. _Wasn't that what we said in the dreams?_

"It's not good for the sleepin'." Willow murmured as Buffy pounded up the stairs to intercept her mom.

Giles, Tara, and Spike made noises of agreement.

"Just a bit of leftover mojo, right, Watcher?"

Giles looked at Spike, and fought down waves of emotion. _How can you know you'll one day love him like a son- and right now hate him for being such an annoying bastard? Civility will do. It's stood the British Empire in good stead for centuries._ "I'm sure it was just like any dream. Erm. All dreams have significance." He nodded.

"Well, that was a doozy." Buffy shook her head and called back over her shoulder. "At least you all didn't dream about that guy with the cheese." Five figures tried and failed to conceal looks of surprise and realization. They didn't have a chance to reply, Buffy kept talking as she climbed the stairs. "I don't know _where_ the hell that came from."

"Um- um, I don't know about anyone else, but I-" Tara began to stammer, and then stopped, looking at all the faces, but Spike's most of all. The normally cocky facade was missing, replaced by a look of worry, strain, nameless fear and pleading in his eyes. "But I- I need some tea. That was so- st-stressful." She finished.

There was an eager chorus of agreement, a scramble to get out of the room, distract themselves. "I'll put the kettle on." Giles cried.

"I'll clean up after Anya and Joyce. Looks like partying happened." Xander surveyed the dining room.

"I've got all the cans, I'll take them out to the recycling bin." Willow left the living room with an armful of soda cans.

Spike and Tara were left alone in the living room. Tara avoided his eyes, hastily pulling chip bags and popcorn bowls into her arms.

"Oi." Spike idly patted sofa cushions back into place, a lazy bastard's concession to helping out. "For someone with such a lot of speakin' to do- you know how to keep your mouth shut." He finally said, back to her.

Tara stiffened and looked at him. _He knows what I am. Those dreams are more real than anyone will ever say. It doesn't matter if he knows what I can do. I think I know who he really is. Under that mask. We all wear so many masks. Have so many voices._

Spike waited for her to turn, and when she did, blue eyes met and flickered away.

"Th-thanks." Tara said , sliding past him.

"Don't mention it." Spike became fascinated by the static on the still playing television.

"I won't." Tara whispered softly. _No one will. Not as a whole group, we won't discuss it until we really need to. It was so private, so dark and upsetting, and so personal. We'll tell the ones we trust the most. but we're all going to be wondering..._

Spike sauntered off, out to the porch, to clear his head, smoke in the darkness that had fallen while they slept. Unbeknownst to him, unbeknownst to Tara, all of the participants in the night's little dreamland drama were sharing the same thought.

_ Just how much does everyone else know about what I saw? How much were our dreams connected, merged? _

_ Just how much of that was real?_

_To be continued..._


	27. Chapter 27

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Author's Note: Smut and Mush warning! Also, taboo-ish happenings. You were warned, skim if you must._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Cavementftw, Lithium Reaper, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, HachimansKitsune, Illusera, _ _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, to make you think, Little Missy 123, Medusamylove, Babyfaith18, RagnarBlackmane, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Spike'smate, McPastey, sbyamibakura, jbasuka, mike13z50,and Edward Cullen brings sexy back. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXVII

"Mom...Mom...MOM!" Buffy finally stemmed the flow of her mother's babble of concern. "I promise. We're okay. Giles, Tara, and Willow even said so. No more magic in the air. They all said there's no more magic leftovers, not even traces. We're fine. We're all gonna go. I have to just take a quick patrol around, okay? See if there's any Adam-stragglers."

"Be careful." Her mother warned, grip on her shoulders tightening once more before releasing her daughter as they all stood by the door. "All of you."

"We'll be fine. I think we're all going home." Xander soothed.

"I could- stay- if you like. Explain a few things. Set your mind at ease?" Giles offered, fiddling with the stem of his glasses.

Joyce's mouth opened and closed once, and then she nodded. "Yes. Yes, Rupert, thank you. Anything you could tell me, that'd be very helpful."

_I could tell you that you'll be replacing that hideous creation on your finger with something far more suitable inside a year, but for now..._ He stared briefly at the fashion ring on her left hand. "I'm sure I could answer most of your questions." He gave her a ghost of a smile.

Joyce flushed and forgot her maternal panic for the moment. "I- uh- thank you, Rupert. Oh, my goodness- all of you must be starving! It's past dinner time, and you can't live on junk food!"

The teenagers exchanged a look. "Um. We sorta can." Willow giggled.

"Sorta do." Xander added.

"Joyce, why don't we go grab something and we'll discuss the situation over a late-ish supper?" Giles asked with unusual suaveness.

Everyone exchanged looks, Anya and Joyce in particular. Anya raiser her eyebrows and beamed, nodding in what she thought was a discreet way, but was completely obvious. Willow nudged Xander, who nudged her right back, and kissed Anya's cheek. "Sounds like an awesome plan, G-Man. Ahn, let's go grab some Chinese and head home?"

"Extra snow peas? And those amusing but inaccurate message-filled cookies?"

"Fortune coo- yeah. Yeah, we'll get some extra snow peas and I'm gonna ask for extra message cookies, too." He knew she knew the technical name for fortune cookies. She just didn't always say names, she described things. The price you pay for living a thousand years around the world without living "in" it.

Anya beamed, and Joyce swallowed a very youthful sounding chuckle, nodding demurely. "Alright, Rupert, just let me get changed. Everyone else- goodnight, and be careful. _Please_."

"We promise." Anya spontaneously and smotheringly hugged Joyce, whispering in her ear, "The magazine I left on your bed? Read page eighty-nine, tip number ten. I tried it last week. Wow does it work."

Joyce refrained from admonishing her, and closed her eyes briefly. "If I need to, I will." She patted her back and gave her a nudge back into Xander's arms, kissing her daughter's cheek and then heading up the stairs.

Willow and Tara were the first to leave, heading to Xander's car, catching a lift from him and Anya, exchanging hugs and goodbyes with Joyce, Giles, and Buffy, even some nervous but kind farewells with Spike, who looked less hostile and moody than usual.

Xander and Anya left next, a more prolonged exchange occurring. "Giles... you and Buffy's mom? Do I smell band candy?"

Giles took Xander's elbow firmly and propelled him to the porch. "You do not smell any such thing. I simply realized that Joyce and I both care for Buffy as a daughter, and therefore I ought to try to alleviate some of her worries, so she'll fret less. And Buffy- you'll feel more at ease talking to your mother. I know-" he cut her off as she began to open her mouth, a worried expression on her face, "that there have been incidents. We've all been protecting each other, keeping our families out of this. In Joyce's case- we can't afford to do that anymore. Things will be changing, and forewarned is forearmed." _To an extent. Being too forewarned robs the joy from life._ He felt a lot of heaviness in his heart, as well as feelings of excitement and anticipation. He'd seen the future but he'd seen it in a high speed, screaming, blur. He knew key events, not every detail. _And God is in the details. Or someone is._

"But Giles, Mom-"

"Needs to know a little bit more about the work you do and the importance of listening to her daughter. I've seen first hand what choices you make. We all are going to have to trust each other. All of us." He looked at Spike. "_All_ of us."

"Bugger." Spike said softly, but said nothing else about it. " Gotta hit the butcher's. See you round." He gave a mocking salute and strolled out the door.

Buffy watched him go, easing out of sight. She didn't mind, He'd be there when she needed him.

"I guess we'd better go, too." Xander took Anya's hand and freed himself from Giles' grip. With a deliberately teasing look, Xander leaned back to the older man, patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "Go for it, stud.", and fled before Giles could attack him.

Buffy crossed her arms and stared at her Watcher. She could say a whole lot of things, and so could he. "Um. Don't stay out too late?" She finally offered.

Giles laughed briefly. "Don't overexert yourself, Buffy. You've been through something very taxing on many levels, you more than the rest of us."

Buffy blushed. What if Giles really had been in her dream, watching her dance with Spike? What if he knew all the private moments she and Spike shared and somehow heard all the big discussions that she had no idea what they meant exactly and-

"Why don't you and Spike just sweep the campus area and then call it a night?"

Buffy started guiltily. "I don't think I need Spike's help." She laughed it off. "I'll handle it and then-"

"Buffy." He cut her off again. "Odd as this may sound," he groped for just the right phrase, "I do believe- Spike enjoys being around you. You- you challenge him in ways others don't. And though I'm loathe to quote Anya on anything, you two seem to have- uh- bon-"

"Oh, God. I'll go. I'll go, I'll go. Don't use the b-word." She rolled her eyes. She shouldered her jacket and then paused, one foot out the door. "You won't tell her too much, will you?"

"No. Only enough to help her understand. She needs to accept things."

Buffy swallowed any more questions. _What things? Things with me? Things from dreams and crazy slayer spirits? No. I don't want to have this discussion right now, we can grill each other later._ "Yeah. Accepting is good. And speaking of good- you were awesome today, Watcher-mine." She hugged him quickly and bolted out the door as soon as he released her from the embrace.

"You as well." He called after her. She didn't turn, didn't hear. His voice dropped even further as his eyes followed her."More amazing than most of us ever could hope to be." He watched her head into the night, heard a soft and hauntingly familiar car horn beep twice from down the block. He winced and then smiled in a resigned way. _Acceptance is good._

* * *

><p>"God, you feel good." Spike yanked her to his chest across the scuffed and scarred upholstery of his front seat. He held her tight and inhaled her.<p>

"I've been waiting to do this four hours." Buffy groaned and feverishly kissed him, starting to paw at his lapels, panting slightly as desire turned on full blast.

"We made it."

Both of them knew he wasn't just talking about surviving the physical battle.

"Let's go home." Buffy pulled back and looked at him seriously.

Spike put the car in gear and took her hand tightly, nodding once.

"I promised I'd sweep that campus."

"Did you promise any particular parts of campus?" Spike grimaced.

"No..." She shook her head slowly.

"Don't s'pose the area between the car park and the front door of your dorm counts as a sweep?" He sighed.

"We'll check the quad and around the Initiative. I will. I'll take that part." Buffy said hastily.

Spike tilted his head as if hearing half remembered conversations playing far away. "You worried about the soldier boys? Don't be. They'll be coverin' this mess up and tendin' the wounded. They won't come lookin' for me."

Buffy set her chin angrily. "You don't know that!"

"I know that even if they do, I can jus'-"

"Stop!" She locked her fingers around his and squeezed hard. "Don't say it."

"Don't say what?" Spike took his eyes from the road and locked his gaze with hers, watching her stern front quiver and almost dissolve.

"Nothing. Dream stuff. Maybe." Her heart sped up. How could dreams seem so real and so blurry all at once? What was with all the heavy symbolism stuff? Was it even symbolic, or was it all real, just real weird?

"Does it have anything to do with me bein' back to a fully fanged vamp?" He asked cooly, now staring straight ahead into the thin window of night visible through the windshield.

Buffy's own panicked tone surprised them both. "Don't say that! Don't say that, don't ever, ever, _ever_ even mention that you might be-" She choked on silence that suddenly filled her throat, and her hand plucked nervously at her waistband.

Spike caught the motion and grit his teeth. "De-chipped. Chipless. Don't got a nasty little shock collar in m'brain anymore."

"Spike!" Buffy slapped his arm.

"Ah- ah-ah. The bad dog bites back now, Luv." Spike warned in a soft, dark growl.

"No. No." Buffy shook her head hard, and felt tears starting to bubble up. "I can't. I can't, and I won't."

Spike heard the tremor in her voice and pulled the car into a side street a few blocks off from the campus. "Slayer, I wasn't really gonna-"

"I am NOT going to kill another one! I told her! I told them all, I can't be alone, and I need someone like you- I need actually you!" She took the stake out that she'd been slowly grasping and hurled at the dashboard, throwing it away, laying it down, refusing to hold the weapon she wouldn't let herself use on him. "And now you're-"

"The same rotten bastard I always was. Still- still in love with you." He held one arm open and she scooted into it. "You afraid of another portals of doom moment? 'Nother one bitin' the dust, pun intended?" He joked callously, smoothing her hair.

"Shut up." She muttered hoarsely. "You know that I love you." She managed to get out over the ball of pain in her throat.

"I thought you must. Aren't you the one who gave me my chompers back?" He tilted her chin up so he could see her eyes.

"I couldn't have done that. I don't think anything but surgery could have -"

"Operatin' room." He cut her off, eyes wide. "Hell, Slayer, they did! They did take somethin' out an' put somethin' in!"

"But not me!"

"Yes, you! You an' some others."

"I wouldn't do that! I wouldn't force myself to have to kill-" A sob came out in place of words. "I can't. Someone else has to, but I can't let you kill because I can't kill you. I mean- I can. But-" She looked at him with tortured eyes. "There's no right and wrong. But there's still a sacred calling thing. And I can't let people die. Just because I'd die- without you." She hit his shoulder hard and broke down with speed that shocked him, sobbing like she had that night when Angel had left her. "She said this would happen. Jungle slayer bitch said I'd be alone and -"

"And she lied through her ragged yellow teeth, Pet." Spike shushed her sobs. "'Cause everyone else heard the message loud an' clear. Always choose love. If you got a choice." He sighed dramatically. "Guess that means me, too."

Buffy sat up straight, blinking her reddening eyes. "What does that mean?"

"Means if I do somethin' that makes me in the "stake worthy" category- well, newly entered in the stake worthy category, anyway- I'll lose your love."

"No. No, sick and twisted and so messed up as it is- I wouldn't stop loving you. Jerk. Jerky McJerk for making me love you." She scrubbed at her eyes and tried to calm herself down.

"But I'd lose you. Break your heart. I know. Already had ringside seats for Angel turned Angelus." He whispered, drawing her back to him, looking earnestly at her. "You're my Heart. Can't break you. Can't hurt you. If I go huntin'- you'll stop me. You'll love me, you'll try not to kill me- an' it'll kill you. Sorry. I like my pain, I got my kinks- but seein' us torn up like that ain't one of 'em."

"Are you saying you're going- good?" Buffy asked doubtfully.

Spike snorted so hard he coughed, an impressive feat for one who only voluntarily processes air. "Uh- _no_. Twit." He muttered an insult under his breath and caught an elbow- and a smile- for it. "I'm just sayin'- I won't do anything that breaks or ruins this gig. Happen to like it." He tried to appear casual.

Buffy had no such qualms. "But you still have to eat! You love to fight, you love to kill and hunt and-"

"And inhale you. Feel you get hot around me, under me, over me. Watch you pound and pulse and scream like the devil himself is in you-well- a close second to him, anyhow. I can buy blood at the shops. I can nick it outta the hospital. I can't steal you, an' I can't buy you. Can't even trick you. You always knew, full well- what we were doin' was against the rules."

"And I totally stopped caring." She whispered.

"That's what makes us a good fit. Rebels." He grinned cheekily. " 'Sides- we don't even know how this little deactivation happened-"

"Or if it worked."

"Right, so we just- OW!" Spike clutched his nose as his head snapped back and grabbed Buffy's wrist with a roar of pain. "Slayer!"

"Did it hurt?" She asked eagerly.

"Buggerin' hell, yes!" He complained and let her go, shaking his hand out and bringing it gingerly to his face.

"Not the punch! When you took a swing at me!"

"That wasn't a swing, you bimbo, that was gettin' you away before you did it again. Why would you-"

"Try and hurt me." Buffy interrupted, waving him on.

"No!" Spike sounded genuinely aghast at the idea. "It's not on, I didn't want to the last few weeks -not much- an' I don't want to now, so I-"

"They put something in you? What'd they put in? Is it blocking violent impulses or something? In a non-painy way?" Buffy's hands suddenly scrabbled over his chest and shoulders.

"No..." He ground out, glowering. " 'Cause right now I wanna smack your pretty little mouth 'cause you won't let me finish a bleedin' sentence..."

"I have to know." She said simply, stroking his cheek, near but not on his injured nose.

"I don't know what undid it, I don't know if we over mojoed the crap out of everyone, bringin' in spirits and whispery things and that little waiter with the silver cheese tray, but maybe it fried my wirin'. As for what they put in-" He cocked his head in confused way- "what the hell could you put in a person? Don't feel a bit different."

"You aren't acting any different." Buffy returned his puzzled frown.

Of course, neither of them were the best judges of their actions anymore. They exchanged a look of mutual acknowledgement. _We've both been acting different. For weeks. It had nothing to do with dreams or people putting stuff or taking stuff out. It had to do with becoming friends. Lovers. And finally- in love._

Dreams might hint at changes, but in their case- changes of heart had already occurred.

Buffy shook her head wearily, looking down at her lap. "I just don't understand...I just don't _get_ it, you know? What all of that was supposed to mean."

"It means we're in this together. An' we're supposed to be. 'Cause someone up there or down here, or God knows where has a cracked sense of humor."

Buffy remained silent, nodding slightly. "Everyone always throws us together, huh? Willow's spell... those sex freak spirits in Lowell House... God, even Angel pushed us together."

"He effin' didn't!"

"He did. When he went all 'grrr' and you wanted to save the world so you could keep watching dog races and snacking on people." She rolled her eyes.

"If you're gonna go back that far- I'll one up you-"

"You have that stupid habit." She muttered.

"Angelus is the one who set me after Slayers. Always had a thing for 'em, ever since he started droppin' little hints about how big an' bad they were. Had to show him I was bigger an' badder."

"As if." Buffy managed a grimace that was almost a smile.

"Oi. Two down, and you coulda been number three. _That's_ the Big Bad, Cutie Pie." He snarled.

It was a mistake. Her eyes went from reflective to hard and her jaw took on that tightness it so often developed in a "kill or be killed" situation. "Yeah. That's true. If you didn't have that chip, you'd have tried to kill me again, and again, and again-"

"And you'd've won." Spike touched her cheek and his shoulders relaxed slightly when she didn't pull away.

"What?" Buffy's eyes widened and her jaw dropped.

"You. Would. Have. Won. An' I'm not sayin' it again." He warned vehemently at the end.

"Spike, that's the- the- wow. That was really, really nice. For you." Buffy was more touched than she could've believed.

"Yeah, well. I mean it. But that didn't happen. No one will win or lose, between you an' me. Not anymore. An' nothing ever did leave one of us down an' dusty. Somethin' wants us together, in the together sense, not in the killin' each other sense. The chip was prolly jus' to hold me off long enough for you to realize my devilish charms." He fluttered his long lashes.

"I don't like fate stuff. Fate stuff has royally screwed up my life. And my grades. My parents' marriage. My- everything." Buffy huffed.

Spike gave her a crooked smirk. "You act like a brat, Slayer. A three year old one."

"You're the expert." She smiled saccharinely. They let out a sigh, topped off with a shared weary smile.

"Then listen to the expert, Brat." His tone softened into a half-serious, half-playful voice. "Maybe for once- fate did somethin' nice for you. If we b'lieve that magic acid trip we just took, that is."

She laughed once, silently, just enough to raise her shoulders a few inches before they sagged back. "We're in a circle, then. We're back to not knowing what all that was supposed to mean, what we have to do."

His eyes were gaslight flames suddenly, burning blue in the darkness of the car's interior. "I know what I'm s'posed to do." He said in a deliberate, unwaveringly forceful voice. "What I always do. Follow my heart. An' that's yours now." He lapsed back into silence for a long tense moment.

Buffy could strangle him. She could kiss him. So simple, yes, everything was all shades of gray, but Spike navigated the cobwebby world of mystic crap like a pro. He made it look easy. She couldn't even say it was because he'd never been hurt or never had a strange, twisted experience with fate or broken hearts. No. He was just cocky and noble and not noble and- and _everything_. All at the same time. Infuriating dead vampire villain. Sort of villain. Vampire-thing. _Who I can't imagine living without._

"They told me to choose you." She whispered finally.

Spike's smile was strange to her. More human and more beautiful than she'd ever seen it, even when they confessed they were in love, even when they were laughing like fools, even when they escaped death and found each other again. "I knew they did." He beamed. "Had to have. We chose each other, after all."

"Yeah, but that was some little private deal! This is- well, I don't know, but probably huge! Some big, huge thing requires us to choose each other and all I can think of is- 'Why? How? Why would fate ever tell me to team up with Spike?'." She blushed. "You know. In the partnership way and in the being in love with you way."

"Dunno about them. But as for me, well, guess you'll just have to trust me, won't you, Luv?"

Her heart tugged at her. _This is Spike. He's the wrongest one in the world for me, but yeah, I do trust him. Besides, wrong and right died instead of me and him, and hey, I'm happy with the trade. I get him, he gets me. We don't leave, and we don't dish the emotional pain. We love. We play the human side, we play the superhuman side, we make lines and cross them, we save people, and then we go kill monsters and beat up snitches._ She laughed silently again, taking his hands._ I trust this guy. My problem is- I'm still scared something is going to get burnt to a crisp because of it. Maybe my life, or his unlife, or the whole friggin' world. Because, dude- it's just so...eee. Mega weird._

"I guess I'm having trouble with the T-word." Buffy said to their joint hands, and waited for his persuasive, husky voice to start soothing her into the right mindset, as he so often did lately.

She called it wrong. He glared and jerked his hands back so he could cross his arms indignantly.

"Oh, you've got a problem trustin' me? Look at_ my_ deal! I'm trustin' a slayer. Your psychotic incarnation from earlier not considered, look at what I'm riskin'! You kill hundreds of my kind, an' I killed a paltry two of yours."

"Two slayers. You killed thousands of_ people_!"

"Not lately!" Spike cried with wounded innocence, surprised at himself, at finding that he wanted such things made very clear. "But you musta dusted twenty vamps today alone."

Buffy threw her hands up in exasperation. "Oh my God, Spike! Seriously?_ I'm_ the good one. You can trust me. I even threw my stake down." She pointed to the dashboard.

He conceded the point with a slightly mulish look. "What am I supposed to do, Pet? I can't take my fangs out, can't throw my weapon down." Their eyes relocked, hers melting rapidly at the earnest timbre in his voice. "I can only keep 'em in. I'll always be what I am."

_What he is. Sometimes it's just so complicated to be what you are, but you don't have a choice once you're it._ Buffy scooted so that her knees touched his leg as they half faced each other in the front seat.

"I'll always be what I am, too. Half human, half powerful uh- slayer- ancient power thing." Her dream had left her groping for definitions of what she was. What she had inside. _Poor Spike. Why am I giving him such a hard time about what's on his inside, when I don't know what's in me, either? That Sineya was no nice little school girl, and she tried to kill all my friends at once- something Spike never tried. Not at once, anyway..._

Spike tangled one hand in her hair as it hung down her shoulder sloppily. He didn't care. He needed to take that bitter tone away. He'd never hated what he was, bad or good. You get dealt a hand, you play it 'til you win an' there's blood on the table. Girl didn't get a choice, even less choice than others. "You're not a thing, Luv. You're all woman, with a superpower center. Unlike me." He gave her a bittersweet smile of realization. They might have matching halves,according to Tara, but she could live without her ancient power. His demon and its unearthly presence made him. His existence depended on it. Without it... He continued to speak. "I'm a vampire. With my fangs gone, Luv- not even a man. Just a dead man." His voice faded.

"No, Spike, I never saw you like that. I never will. You are so much more alive than most living guys I meet." She laughed and rubbed his cheek, mirroring him as he now held hers.

"Not really hung up on what I am, just wishing I had the option to give you. That I could be both, man an' monster." His eyes regarded her hopefully. "Can't you just think of me as a man sometimes? You did once before." Then he shook his head. "No. No, we oughta be done with pretendin'. I'm a dead man without the vamp, so you'd best get used to-"

Buffy's soft, almost inaudible whisper interrupted him, a sigh as she leaned closer, her lips head to his.

"Shhh, Baby. Dead man walking. Remember- death is my gift." She tried to erase the hurt and the rawness she saw in his eyes with her words.

It worked. Sad eyes bloomed as he argued in her arms. "No. No, no, _life_ is your gift." They gasped when their mouths met, so much more desperate and awake, alive, than they could ever recall, for a variety of reasons.

"Bring me to life, Buffy. You've done it before. I can live in you, through you, when your heart beats for me, and your blood pulses for always breathe for me." He paused, taking a mouthful of a air, letting it out shakingly as the words poured out. He hadn't felt like this, been able to talk like this in- in years. Ever. He always wore his heart on his sleeve, but this was a mixture of knowing no fear and genuinely believing everything he was saying, no deceit, no artfulness in him. "Listen to me. Trust me just enough to try it again, chip or no chip. I won't let you down when it counts. I won't leave. I won't do anything that makes me leave, makes you want me gone."

"You won't kill anyone?" was what she wanted to ask. But she didn't. If you trust someone, you have to trust what they say, too. Not only that, but trust the things she'd learned in the dream. The man took her hand and plunged into his chest, and both of their hearts bled. You can't be more connected than that, you can't love someone more than having your heart tied to theirs.

"Come on." Buffy hugged him hard, speaking between gnawing kisses, tugging at him as she opened the car door. And that's all she needed to say to get him out of the car and running with her. "We'll come back for the car?"

"Sod the car. Better not to leave it on campus too many nights in a row anyway People'd talk." Spike flew along the ground beside her. "Are we gonna split up? Cover the whole campus?"

"Nope. Just the Initiative area, the quad, my dorm, Tara's dorm. That ought to hold us-for a few hours." She shook her head.

"Sure that's enough?"

"Positive. All we have to do is get home." Her eyes slashed to his, and he flared his nostrils, nodding once.

"Just get us home."

Someone turned on an internal soundtrack for them, something both of them could hear. Urgency, blood lust, regular lust, a current between them that communicated so much without needing words.

Buffy was reminded of the night she and Riley first made love, first took a patrol together. Only it was blurry, pale shadow compared to this feeling, this blinding sense of each other, moving like one.

He saw the straggler first, coming out from the grassy trap door of the quad nearest the Initiative house.

She heard the little grunt, caught the jerk of his head, and that was all she needed. Stake out, stake in, explosion of dust, and keep running. Smoothly, stealthily, a hunting pair.

_I'm not alone._ Buffy took out the second straggler they came across, this one crossing the hedges that lined the walks between the quad and Stevenson. _But it's not like someone else is with me. He's just- no, _we're_ just like one being. You were wrong, Sineya. You don't need to be alone to do this job. You just need- _she cast a look at him as he flawlessly snapped the neck of the large, gnarled demon in front of them_- _someone_ who's a part of you._

"Good work out, Slayer?" Spike brushed his hands as they heaved the corpse back into the bushes.

"More like warm up stretches." She laughed and took off.

"Oooh, Heart, you know I like to be warmed up." He seized her hand as they ran the last few yards up to the steps of her dorm. Both of them were too wrapped in each other to notice that the lobby was full, and that they looked like hell, battle worn and mussed. They stayed in hand holding, kiss-stealing, top speed mode as they walked through the dorm.

"God, Buffy? It's Buffy, right? What the hell happened to you?" A girl that lived on Buffy's floor came out of her door as she and Spike were trying to get in theirs. The blonde duo was somewhat hindered by the fact that they were too busy devouring each other to put the key in the lock the right way, as well as trying to control their combined brute force and not take the door down.

Buffy whipped her head away from Spike's with wide eyes and wet lips. "Uh. Oh. There was this-"

"Big rabid dog." Spike supplied.

"Yes!" Buffy nodded eagerly. "Um. Big, big dog. A German Shepherd."

"A mix. Gotta watch those mixed breeds." Spike chuckled.

"But- it's been taken care of. So- we have to um-" Buffy jiggled the key insistently. Spike huffed and grabbed the door handle. It popped open, and they both fell a half step inside.

"We have to go get cleaned up. Now sod off." Spike shoved Buffy inside and slammed the door in her startled neighbor's face. "I gotta get a proper bathroom put in. Least all my neighbors are dead. Means they mind their own damn business."

"Spike-" she began to scold, then stopped herself. "You're right. Everyone should just worry about their own business."

"Glad you agree." He kissed her hard and ravenously. "Because _this_ is my business."

* * *

><p>"I'm all dirty." Buffy blushed as Spike grabbed her around the waist.<p>

"I wouldn't say you're dirty. Maybe slightly naughty at times." He smirked and unbuttoned her trousers.

"I need a shower."

"You'll need a second one in an hour so wait." Spike wheeled.

"But there's-"

"Baby. I. Don't. Care." Spike ground out. "Look- if you can take that I'm missin' a heartbeat and happen to have certain dental irregularities-" he flashed his fangs and reverted, "I think I can take some sweat and blood. Particularly the blood." He hoisted her up suddenly, plopping her down on the bed while he shimmied from his coat.

Buffy untucked his tight black tee and undid his belt, and let him pull her shirt off over her head, hesitating slightly when he knelt on the bed, hands reaching for her hips.

"Hey." He bumped their foreheads together. "If I remember rightly- you an' I'd cut out our hearts for each other. I'm your 'chosen one', if you'd like."

"Oh, poor you. Being Chosen sucks." Buffy giggled softly, feeling better, kissing his jaw and chin, working to his throat.

"D'you honestly think I can't take good care of my girl?"

"No. No. Go ahead. Take me, I'm yours." She sprawled back playfully, suddenly relaxed. "And I'll take care of you, too, Buster." She dragged her nails lightly down his chiseled chest and when he shivered and leaned to kiss her, she licked his bite sharply before letting her teeth scrape it.

"Oooh, Goldilocks. You're gonna wake up the Big Bad Wolf." He chuckled.

"That's mixing up your fairytales- and I don't want a wolf. I want my big bad, secretly not so bad vampire."

"Mm, you got it, Slayer. Now observe." Spike left the bed and rummaged in her closet. "Voila." He shook out a dark pink towel and laid on the bed. "And watch this." He held up a smaller pink washcloth, and walked to the little sink inside the dorm, running it under the hot water and then wringing it out.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking care of you. Just for a night. I know you can look after yourself, but-"

"But I could really use a little taking care of- as long as it's mutual." She smoothed out the towel and kicked her boots off, eyes solemn but happy as she watched him move around her. He was slower, sweeter, looking at her like he hadn't seen her in weeks. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just- I dunno." He eased her trousers off, then lifted her hips up to settle them on the towel. "D' you know what's interestin', Luv?" He paused, hands on her lean thighs, resting lightly, thumbs massaging the tiniest bit.

"What, Spike?"

"I spent over a century thinkin' I was made for Dru. That I belonged to her, that we were destined to forever. All that hearts and flowers rubbish." He shook his head.

"I know. We had this discussion. A lot. 'Cause I had the same thoughts about me and Broody Pants."

"Oooh, nice one, Pet." Spike bent down and kissed the soft hollow of her taut stomach, making her shiver.

"I thought you'd like that." She rolled her head and tensed in anticipation when she felt one thumb hook over her panties.

"Yeah, well we were both wrong. But today's little dreamscapade helped me see somethin'. I still found the girl I'm s'posed to be with. Maybe not 'made' for, but hell, I've had a few alterations done 'cause of you. There's somethin' nice about knowin' the girl you love, is finally, really the one you were meant to love."

Her voice came out a little bit clogged and hoarse. "You're right. It makes you feel- happy. And safe." She rubbed her bare arms protectively.

"Don't know about you, but that doesn't happen to me a lot lately." He nibbled her baby soft skin.

"So not happening lately." Buffy giggled and stroked his hair as his head rested on her torso. "But maybe it's about to start on a more regular basis."

"Starts right now. Just feel safe, feel loved."

"You, too." Buffy curled herself down to hug him. _Feel trusted, feel trust. And please God... don't let it all break. If I open myself up- and if he's finally finding what he's waited for all this time... please don't break either one of us. He's hard on the outside- he never was all that rough on the inside, not with that big heart. But now- I don't know what you let them put in him. This is my last request for the night, and hey- I saved the world from the start of a genocidal problem, so you can listen to me, right? Please, please, _please_ don't let me be the one to hurt him._

_I will do this flawlessly. I will make it loving, and tender, and erotic as hell._ Spike purred his way over her breasts as he bared them and down the curve of her sides as he kissed them. He stopped at her thin pink undies and rubbed his sharp-planed cheek to the fabric. _I will make her see. I will make her see that there's nothing more beautiful than her, covered in bruises or grime or anything. She'll see why I'm the one she can have, that there's no more alone for either of us._

Buffy swallowed as he tugged the panties off and tossed them to the side. "Spike, I-"

"Shh, Pet. I'm gonna look after you." He patted her damp curls, and nudged her thighs apart. "Don't tense those muscles."

"This isn't a guy thing." She warned as she shifted slightly.

"No, it's a private thing, it doesn't get more private than you an' I an' our secret club for the fatalistically in love. I promise it won't hurt. It doesn't hurt, does it?" He suddenly asked, head popping up. "I mean- I hear women get cramps an' all, but my sweet attentions don't hurt your pretty little petals, do they?"

"No, it doesn't hurt." Buffy laughed gently and parted her legs more willingly. She felt Spike's hand fumble for a second, then felt a slow, gentle tug. There was a rustle as Spike found the bedside wastebasket.

"There. Poor little thing. You missed your Spike, didn't you?" He kissed each fold softly, feeling her relax and hearing her sigh. "Women sure make a big deal out of little things." He muttered into his new favorite chalice.

"Oh? Well, vampires make a big deal out of different little things." She sat up slightly and pinched the secret sensitive spot on his neck, watching him spasm.

"Now stop that or I'll forget what I was doing." Spike drew himself away reluctantly, promising his demon he'd be back, licking his lips clean.

"Hey, I liked what you were do- Spike! That's cold!"

"Well, it was hot when I got it five minutes ago." Spike grumped, dabbing at her face with the now cool cloth. "You don't look too bad."

"I did wash up at my mom's. I really should take a shower."

"Soon, Pet. In the meantime- wipe you down." He scrubbed at her.

"I'm not sick, and I feel like I'm getting a sponge bath." She complained, although secretly she was touched.

"Would you please shut up an' let me do my nice guy bit? I don't usually do it, but seein' as you're the woman I love an' there's no gettin' out of it..." He teased gently, wiping one last time around her eyes.

"But I wanna do something nice for you, too." Buffy said with heartfelt sincerity. She noted in silent awe that her inner good guy didn't even flinch.

Spike regarded the tasty lithe treat before him, and thought of a hundred "nice" nasties they could do. But he didn't really wanna set up some goal for them to achieve. He just wanted them to do everything they would naturally do, and more new stuff would emerge. Mainly, he wanted her to love every second of it, and he wanted her absolute, implicit trust. _Yeah, mate, you want that all you like. It's gonna take a little time to earn that, though._

"Spike? You zoned." Buffy's hand cradled his jaw.

"Huh? Oh. Jus' thinkin'. You do plenty nice for me, Luv." He put the washcloth down, chucking it away carelessly. "We take it in turns."

"Like who gets to be the hawk and who's the rabbit." She smiled, recalling an earlier discussion, a weeks' earlier discussion, about their sex lives. B_efore they were love lives, back when we were barely friends. We still did plenty of "nice". Oh, God, I'm gonna give him nice until he can't walk..._

"I call the hawk. First." Spike gave her a dark, devilish grin and dove back down between her thighs.

Buffy lay back and enjoyed. She more than enjoyed. She panted and screamed and made incomprehensible noises almost from the beginning. "Ooooh. Ooh, Spike. Hmm. Hmmm. Hnnnnn!"

Spike dared to look up at her, lift his chin, show proof of what exactly he was doing. "Good, Luv?"

"Uh-huh." She squeaked. "More now." To her own amazement, she shoved his head back into position and shamelessly bucked her hips up to his loving mouth.

Spike grinned and lapped. _Baby's getting into this_. He wormed his tongue inside her and gripped her hips. "Wanna help, Precious?" He asked between laps and swallows.

"Help make more toe curling feelings? Duh, yes." Buffy giggled, coasting towards orgasm.

"Show me a little slayer flexibility." He slid his hands slowly along her legs, pushing them up and back.

Buffy smiled and slowly continued to raise her legs. "I guess that's fair, since you're the one who taught me the joys of trying to put my ankles behind my head."

"The more we practice, the easier it gets." He winked, and watched in proud lust as she slowly contorted, ankles not quite up to her head, but slim legs splayed and pulled back, thrusting her adorable, pouting slit and tight, unexplored opening out for his attention.

Buffy felt like he was burning her from the inside out. His tongue was everywhere, his mouth pulled and nipped, and sucked, and he roared and snarled in want every time she peaked. Which was _a lot_.

Spike waited until he got a fresh rush of girl juice and her familiar panting scream, and then went for it, the little push he wanted. He wanted to do this because he wanted to do it, but also because he wanted to look up and see the person he loved with all of himself giving him all of herself. Wanted to see nothing but love in her eyes.

Buffy felt his tongue lapping hard on her clit, and one hand cupping and squeezing her right cheek, pulling her wider open. Wider open was of the good right now. She ached for him, she wanted to be filled up, and he was going to make it happen.

He did. In stereo. "Oh!" Her soft cry wasn't pained but it was shocked. At least one finger was in each opening. "Spike..." She whispered in a strangled voice.

"Too big, Pet?" Spike gently rotated his pinky in her bum and his two center fingers in her pussy, still pushing his tongue to acrobatic feats on her clit and lips to make pleasure outweigh any reservations.

"Ummm. No." She almost came, but couldn't, feeling like she couldn't clench down all the way. Not sure what would happen.

"Relax. Do what feels good. This will give you a boost if you just let me... let me try." He wanted so badly for it to be so good for her.

Their eyes met, and he shimmied up, putting one arm under her shoulders to support her while his hand slowly throbbed inside her. "I've got you. You tell me what to do."

Buffy's legs came down, still spread and separated, but now in a more relaxed position. One small fist curled around his swollen cock, pumping hard, in time to match her breathing. "I don't feel like it's wrong. I just feel like- I don't know what happens with that spot. It's never exactly been multipurpose." She blushed.

"I know. That was one reason I did it." He confessed. "Thought I could give you something good that no one else had ever given you."

"You give me that all the time." She whispered, kissing him lightly.

"I love you so much. So bloody much." Spike captured her mouth again, sure there was nothing but sweet pussy juice on his own lips now. "I promise nothing bad happens with just this tiny little piece of me in you." He waggled his pinky. "You do what you like."

"It's not what I have to do." She whimpered and rolled her aching pelvis. "It's what you do to me. When there are fingers inside, there's usually some yummy in and out motion?" She prodded.

"Knew I was forgettin' something." Spike smirked and arched one shoulder forward, putting all the force into his fingers as they were buried inside her.

In a few seconds, Buffy lost her puzzled, cautious expression, and began to get her dazed but focused look, the look of pending orgasm. Spike cuddled her closer. "Yeah, Baby?" He whispered encouragingly.

"Mmmhmm." She made a high, uncertain noise.

"Feels nice, that extra stretch, pullin' all those nerve endings for my girl."

"Spike..." Head crashed against his, desperate, lost look in her eyes.

_She looks to me to make it all okay. Trust. If she'd just say those three magic words right now I could-_

"Love you." She mewled, and shook hard, head tucked to chest, eyes exploding open then closing in inner bliss.

"Oh, I love you, you perfect, perfect girl." He chortled in pure enjoyment and made her cum, preening at the soft, hiccuping sounds she made as she spasmed greedily on his fingers.

Buffy was still spasming when he withdrew, wiped his hands off on the towel under them, and rolled her to her side, kissing her and caressing her like he'd never gotten the chance. "You're so good to me." She whispered, biting his ear softly.

"I wanted you to say that. To know I would be."

"You always were. About this stuff." Buffy murmured. "That was a whole new kind of good. Not that I'm ready for more." She hastily clarified.

"No rush." He prepared to sink into her, and instead found himself pinned to the bed, on his back, her hands on his forearms. "I take it it's your turn to be the hawk now?" He grinned lazily.

"You're not the only one who wants to make tonight memorable." She tossed her long hair in a purposely sultry way, watched the flames in his eyes go up a notch, and clawed her way down to his cock. She left fine red trails over his moon glow skin, and kissed the tracks away, licking like a naughty panther, making sure her eyes never left his.

"Oh fuck." He breathed. "Don't toy with me, Heart." He snarled and arched up when her kisses failed to make contact with his cock on the first two long kissing trails.

"But that's what _you_ like. And you're always telling me not to rush." She pouted prettily with deliberate seductiveness, before making another trip up his chest, letting her breasts brush his straining member.

"Slayer..." He growled.

"Spike." She replied complacently. She paused halfway down his chest, smiling broadly. This was how making love should be. Passionate, loving, even fun, with teasing and talking. "I love you, you know that?" She demanded, propping her chin on his abs. She loved that startled, incredulous flicker in his eyes, too. Right before he found his voice each time she said it. Very ego boost-y.

"Thought you did." He reached down and stroked her hair. "Mutual."

"Say it." She moved lower, opening her mouth around his tip, not touching yet.

"You mean all I had to do was say it?" He cried, and smacked his head. "I love you! You wonderful, infuriatin'... ooh. Ohh, yes, wonderful." He closed his eyes as he felt the rush smack into him, hot, wet, supple mouth enclosing him and stroking him.

"I just wanted to hear it." Buffy took a breather after a couple minutes. "You don't have to say it to get this fabulous mouth." She kissed the tip and swirled her tongue over it.

"Someone's very confident. Rightfully so." Spike shuddered when she lightly bit down, making him woozy with desire. The biting stopped and he groaned. "Oh hell, that was perfect, Luv, you-" Buffy was sitting up on her knees, looking down on him. "Um. Problem, Slayer?"

"I don't really do the whole 'confidence' thing." She snuggled down beside him, on her side now. "I just had one of those annoying deep thought moments. We can go back to the wild monkey love, as Xander would say."

"First- for God's sake don't talk about the boy when I'm concentratin' on you, it puts me off." He fended off her playful punch. "And second, have all the deep thoughts you want. We always do that. Prolly because we think sex equals defenses comin' down."

"It wasn't a long deep thought." She gave in, stroking his chest as he stroked her back. "I was gonna give you credit, but I know you have this ego growth problem..."

"Maybe they put in some sort of inhibitor today." He nudged. "Go on. Try me."

"I never had a lot of confidence about a lot of things- but I've had more lately, and I think you helped." She waited for him to crow.

He didn't. "You give me a lot more confidence, too, Pet. Pretty awful to sit around for months thinkin' you've been abandoned by true love and will never know happiness again, an' no one soddin' understands. Then you make this annoyin' thing called a 'friend'-"

"Hey!"

"-and you get your stones back."

"See? I love you. Because you make me feel whatever I feel is okay." She rolled on top of him, pecking him on the lips before scooting herself into position over him.

"It _is_ okay. Oh, God, Luv, what you're feelin' now is beyond okay..." He grunted as she started stroking him again, lining him up to plunge in.

Buffy took him in all at once, probably not the smartest thing to prolong the action or keep the volume down, but they didn't really care. "So big."

"Only 'cause you're so tight, sweet bloody Christ, no matter what I do, so tight."

"Well- God- not this time." She winced pleasurably. "You've been eating your Wheaties."

"I've been sippin' Slayer." He corrected and sat himself up, taking possession of her hips. "Notice a difference?" He smirked smugly.

"Uh-huh." Buffy gripped his shoulders. "Less talking, more kissing?" She panted.

"I can do both. I don't get winded." He bragged.

"I think I managed to get you to the point of no talking a couple of times. That was a miracle though, I can't do that all the time." She teased, and clung to him, chest to chest.

"I dunno, you're pretty bloody miraculous." Spike nestled his chin over her shoulder and rutted in her.

Buffy buried her head on his neck, leaving kisses and bites, and finally, in one of those "I'm going to make him so happy moments" found his bite and latched herself on.

Could have been a mistake, Buffy realized as they crashed off the bed, and she found herself under him, feeling him slam into her with a constant whisper of "yes, yes, yes, yes." "Spike?"

"Oh, yes, Baby?" He bit her shoulder softly.

"Don't break the floor."

"I'm not goin' that hard, am I? I'm always careful not to break the major fixtures." At that moment the floor gave an ominous creak. "Well, we have been usin' this floor a lot lately." He laughed and considered moving back to the bed.

"We should. Carpet clean up is not my favorite post-sex thing." Buffy remembered their current situation. Spike nodded and scooped her back up, putting her on the edge, so her bottom rested just on the towel.

" 'Scuse me a moment." Spike took three long licks at her center, and then stood up, slipping between her lips. "My favorite sight. My Buffy spread open around me."

"My favorite sight, yummy Spike over me. In me."

"Oh, very in you." Spike snarled happily and plunged in hard and fast. Harder than usual. Harder than ever. "Oh for fuck's sake!" He suddenly shouted and pulled back.

"Huh? What?" Buffy looked around in alarm.

"There's no chip! There's no chip, and I never made love to a human without it and I-"

"I'm a little stronger than you, so get back in here, _right now._" Buffy demanded, quivering with almost-orgasm.

Spike petted her sweating brow with one thumb as the rest of his hand cupped the side of her face. "I didn't hurt, did I?"

_And he says I'm miraculous._ "No, Baby. Go to town." She giggled, kissing his palm as it trailed over her cheek.

"You're not scared of me anymore." He whispered after a few more moments.

"I was never scared of you." She reminded him.

"Earlier. With the de-chipping, you were all in pieces, Luv."

Buffy couldn't deny that. She looked into his eyes, eyes she's started to fall in love with days ago, before she'd ever admit it to herself. "Then I guess you're right. I'm not scared."

He glowed inside and fell on top of her, shoving them up more on the already rumpled bed. "Who'd have thought? One of the best things I've ever felt is knowin' I could rip your throat out an' that I'm not gonna do it. An' what's more- that you're not even a little scared."

"Can you not remind me about your throat ripping out capabilities? I trust you, but- but, oh God, Spike!" Buffy sat up suddenly and smacked him in the chin with her forehead. "The guys! They're going to go postal when they hear about this!"

Spike stared down at her. "Good thing I've got someone on my side, then, isn't it?" He expected there to be lip chewing, and nail-biting, and silence as she hesitated. Instead her response was instant.

"Always." Buffy smiled. "From now on. I choose you- not over them, I mean, but you, too. Always."

Spike rubbed his brow to hers, touched by her quick and honest response. "Thanks, Baby." He nibbled her lips with a smile, then grimaced. " 'Always' sounds good- but I'll be real glad if we can just get through a couple weeks."

Buffy sighed in response, thumbs tracing the contours of the face so close to hers, savoring the feeling of him filling her. "We can't keep everything a secret."

"No... but we don't have to tell all the secrets all at once, now do we, Heart?"

* * *

><p>"So, can you tell me? About the slayer dream you experienced? Or is it a sacred Scooby thing that you had to do to get the details?" Anya asked the next night, after everyone had partially recuperated from the battle and the nightmarish dreams that followed it, as she and Xander lay in bed, foreplay just starting. That was good time to ask questions- as long as they didn't last for more than 15 minutes, or the sex stalemated for far too long.<p>

"I can tell you. You've served on the committee for at least three town-sized disasters. You're as Scooby as it gets." Xander replied unhesitatingly, moving closer. He kissed her ruby red lips passionately and began, "Okay, the dream. You were the star. For part of it." He grinned.

"I thought Buffy's scary but anti-evil counterpart was?" Anya ran her nails over his wide shoulders.

"Not for me. She made a- a painful impression, don't get me wrong." Xander laughed and looked at his chest, still expecting to see scars of a hideous wound. "But it was mainly about you, Buff, and me."

Anya stiffened. "I don't like that idea."

"Neither did I." Xander turned down the volume on his hormones to think with less rampant parts of his anatomy. "See, here's the thing. Sometimes in life you know you've got a good thing, the best thing, but you see something else and you feel like that'd be pretty awesome, too."

"These things are me and Buffy?" She clarified.

"Yeah." He gave her an embarrassed look. "See- I know Buffy and I aren't ever gonna get romantic. But I really care about her. And it isn't even like I_ want_ to get romantic!" He defended himself from future onslaughts. "But there's male ego stuff involved and- and-"

"Wait, I bet I know this one. Is it the male ego thing where you get mad because you see a beautiful woman and you're a good catch, so why didn't she pick you?"

"Uh- there was a little of that." Xander silently blessed his girlfriend for being able to define way more than people gave her credit for. Defined the hard concepts, too. "There was also that thing where you see her with every other guy but you, or-or you see her with a guy, but you think you could do a better job, you know?" He gave a nervous twitch. Anya was so jealous sometimes, but she'd gotten better lately. And the more they opened up, the more comfortable she got, like she believed he wouldn't run out on her. He pushed through the little wave of fear and looked at her. "I was never cool, and I was never brave. No sports try outs or standing up to the bullies. Then I meet Buffy and we go out and fight the bads 'cause we have to... Ha. Then I _knew_ I wasn't brave, 'cause you get used to not peein' your pants, but seriously wanting to on a weekly basis."

"You're very courageous. Like a a slightly scrawny commando." Anya stroked his ego in just the right place.

"Thanks, Babe. Still, scrawny or not, I start being an ass and thinking I'm the man for her. I mean, I can understand the slayage and God knows I'm used to hanging out with her and Willow. And I'd never, ever hurt someone like-" He winced as an image of Angelus flashed through his mind. "Never mind that. It just always made me crazy that she never picked someone who I thought would do even a half-assed job, when hello, Mr. Dying to Be a Good Boyfriend was right here." He cupped her cheek suddenly. "You always tell me how good I am..."

"It's true." She kissed him, and nodded as she lay against his chest. "This is odd. I don't feel jealous. I don't wonder what's in your mind and if you have secret lusts when you explain things. We should do this more often. Communication seems to be a good thing."

Xander laughed. "Damn. I guess Oprah was right." He rubbed her back with lazy fingertips and sighed. "That's the thing in a nutshell. Buffy's guy choices always confused me. Why was it never someone who could really get the job done?"

"Buffy picking Angel and now Spike." Anya summed up.

"Exactly! I mean- no! Wait, where'd Spike come from?" He backpedalled . He hadn't meant to go into who Buffy was choosing now, just that he had learned to accept being chosen for the role of her brother and one protector of her heart.

"Well, she _will_ choose him. If she hasn't already." Anya looked up at him. "I mean- everyone's laid low today, and we haven't met up to talk, but I'm pretty sure they'll say something when they realize it. They're comfortable together and they're perfectly spiritually and elementally matched. Plus, he's incredibly hot. I'd like him. If I didn't prefer you."

"But- evil! I don't get it, I mean, Angel- only sometimes evil. Spike-always evil." He drew a diagram in the air with his finger and separated them. "I mean, I know he's crucial." He flashed through the images he'd seen, images no power on earth would make him share- well, no power besides Buffy in a bad mood, images of death and disaster, everyone he loved gone- or he could accept Spike was in Buffy's life. "Oh God, yeah, Spike's crucial. I just wish he wasn't in the 'Look at me, I'm President of Evil Incorporated' club." He jabbed the "Always evil" box he'd drawn in his imaginary chart.

"You forgot a box." Anya drew one in with her own fingertip. "The 'evil but in love with someone' category. People in that box aren't good, maybe, but they'll do anything for the person they love. I know. That was my box until pretty recently." She gave him a timid smile. "Now I've moved into the good category, with frequent visits into my old column."

"Yeah. Yeah, that's an okay place to be, I guess." Xander smiled lazily, and kissed her ear.

They lay in silence for a couple minutes as Xander remembered his dream in slow motion. Buffy's heart was the sacrifice, and who was going to go save it? Spike. Only then those two would never be together. So he'd pushed the vampire away and laid his own heart on the line. Because the brother will do anything to save his sister. It's love that's just as strong, but so different.

Anya had to strain to hear Xander talk at first. She'd never heard him so quiet and serious. So grown up. Her heart skipped a beat. It was moments like these when she could suddenly see her life stretching out, see her mortal time passing- and she wasn't scared. Because he'd be with her.

"I got hung up on her. Buffy. Because I love her. I love her as much as Angel did or Spike- ugh- might. Way more than Riley or Scott or any other stupid college boy ever will. But I'm not the guy for her. I'm the brother. I'd still lay down my life for her, and she would for me. When she could have that kind of devotion from me, it blew my mind she'd walk away from it. But then I got it." He looked into Anya's eyes as they stared up at him. "I'm the heart. I protect hers. I'm the big brother, Ahn. It's what she needs and that's way important to me. She never had that. She never even had a dad since she became a slayer." He sighed once as he kissed her forehead. "I had to choose roles in my dream. I could keep trying to be the man for Buffy and then she'd never have someone to protect her heart in the real 'you complete me' way, and she'd never have that 'someone to lean on in a non-romantic' way either. And if I kept getting hung up on her- I'd loose the best thing in the world. You."

Anya's heart thumped extra loud. "I'm the best thing in the world?" She gasped in wonder.

"You're my treasure. And something I don't have to share." He winked. "I get your possessive streak now." He rolled suddenly on top of her, pinning her playfully with kisses. "I love you."

"I love you." She kissed him back hungrily.

"I was stupid to keep toying with ideas- just ideas, not acting on them- that Buffy should be with someone like me. I think I- I don't know. Maybe for once in my life as a dweeb I wanted to be the white knight. Angelus called me that once. Only it wasn't a compliment, it was straight up mocking me. Damn, I hate that guy." His brow went into thundercloud territory.

Anya jerked him pleasurably back to the present when her hand slid down his thigh. "Buffy doesn't need a white knight. She needs your love and friendship, but you don't have to ride in and save her." Her voice got quiet and vulnerable, the lost humanity that had been so long bottled up seeping out again, timid and scared of living, and dying, in this world when you once thought you were its master. "Knights in shining armor come and save damsels in distress. When they can't save themselves." She sank deeper into his hazel eyes, watching them study her own brown ones. "You already saved me once. But I could really use-" her voice cracked slightly, "a knight on retainer." She blinked suddenly. "I never had a hero before."

He didn't verbally answer. He consumed her, passionately, frenziedly, like he'd never gotten to before, making her speechless and taking her into a sweet, clinging tempest.

_This is what Buffy must feel like. Yeah, she's gotta feel like this, even with Spike, because he admits she's amazing. When you're someone's hero. My God... I'm a giant to someone. And it's the most humbling thing in the world._

"I'll always be your knight. I'll help you slay all your dragons." Xander whispered when he finally could get words to form.

"It's not that I'm saying I'm a submissive female-" Anya squeaked out, knowing that right then it was a lie. She was totally trusting him, letting her guard down. For the first time in centuries she knew there would be no pain when the walls fell.

"Of course you're not. You're one of the strongest women in the world." Xander kissed her forehead. "That's what makes it so special." He rolled and watched her fluidly, flawlessly stay astride him, perfect curves shining with sweat and he was in awe that something so beautiful and so dangerous could depend on him. "That someone like you would choose a guy like me."

Anya smiled down on him. "I've been waiting for someone like you for a thousand years." She whispered.

There was that enormous, heart wrenching moment of pride and humility happening again. _Waited for for a thousand years. Me. Little ol' me. Man, I cannot cry right now._ He swallowed and rasped in a husky voice, "Then you can keep me for the next thousand."

She sighed and relaxed. Completely relaxed. Never left and abandoned again. Rescued without being weakened. "My hero."

* * *

><p>"I'm kind of nervous about meeting up with everyone else after this." Tara leaned back into Willow's hands and handed her a light blue ribbon to weave into her braid.<p>

"I know! And it's really, really weird that we didn't meet yesterday. My Scooby post-disaster bonding clock is all out of whack. But my Tara-bonding clock is tickin' away." She leaned forward and kissed her girlfriend's head.

"Yeah." Tara teased their kitten with a spare ribbon, smiling her beautiful madonna smile as she felt the soothing fingers combing her hair into strands. "S-so- you know then."

Willow paused mid-comb. "Know? Can we narrow down what I know, please?" She giggled tensely.

"M-me. About m-me." Tara listlessly dropped the string. "You must know."

Willow finished the braid untidily and moved in front of her girlfriend. "I know you have a lot of secrets. And a couple of them are pretty big."

"When you said your dream showed you what love really was-" she swallowed once, "did you mean what I really am?"

"I meant what everyone is." Willow took her hands. "We all hide under costumes. But we do it for different reasons. Me? I'm just afraid people will look underneath the cool lesbian wicca and find out I'm still a scared little girl who is way, way out of her league."

"You're not a little girl!" Tara said hotly. "But it's okay to be scared."

"I know. So- so what are you scared I know?" Willow hesitantly asked.

"What I am."

"You're Tara. You're the girl I love. End of story. You should always-"

"Choose love." Tara blushed and they laughed together softly. "Like Buffy and Spike. They really do love each other."

"Did you just avoid on me?" Willow tried to look stern and fail. "Although that's hardly much of an out though, is it? Oh my God. In my dream- those two? They are- they- well, it was private. But not in a voyeur way, in a really intimate, sweet way! Still, they- it's weird how wrong they are, but you never saw anything so simple, so true. Unless it was me and you."She brought their foreheads together and they kissed gently.

Tara let out a shaky sigh. "They were in love where I was too. And I was- I was everywhere. Spike and Buffy too- or at least part of themselves were. They are in love. They don't care what the other one really is. Good or bad. Or neither." She looked down at their clasped hands as they rested on their criss crossed ankles. "I want someone to love me like that."

"I do! I swear!"

"How can you? When you don't know what I am for real?" She shook her head.

"So tell me. Tell me, and let me prove it."

"They tell pretty little lies..." Tara whispered, a sudden quiver in her voice. "And it all gets confused, what side of the looking glass you're on..."

"Okay, I agree on the confusing, I like the classical lit reference, or- or literal, I don't care. But we're not in the dream, we're in your room and I promise you can trust me. I promise- I'll choose love. Always. I saw what life is like without it." She shook her head. "Not liking it."

Tara caved under Willow's crooked smile. "I haven't had a chance to research the terms I heard. S-so I don't understand everything myself." She trod cautiously. "Let's say I was a -a -a part demon."

Willow's hands tightened on hers. "Then I think you look sexy in horns." She whispered firmly, dead serious, a single tear welling up in each eye. "Then I think you're going to have the most gorgeous tail in the world, and if you end up with a forked tongue- well- aren't I the lucky girl?"

Tara burst into tears and laughter at the same time. "Are you serious?"

"Are you still the same inside? Because I'm in love with Tara, who she is, not what she is." Willow laughed and shed her few tears as well.

"I'm not- they said I'm not- part demon. But my dad and my family- they always said I was. They say when you come of age the demon manifests and- and th-that's what killed my mom..."

Willow shook with sudden rage. "I thought your mom died of a form of blood cancer?"

"She did. D-daddy always said it was the demon blood, not cancer, though."

"Can I please hate your father? Please?" Willow's eyes stayed green but Tara swore fire blasted to life inside them.

"I wish you wouldn't. I don't think it helps him any." Tara smiled weakly. "There were some voices in the dream. And they told me things." She took in a deep breath, courage building up, already so far relieved from Willow's passionate promise to love her unconditionally.

"I know. Um. Not to steal your thunder or anything, but can you tell me why they sounded a little- I mean, just a little bit- like you?"

"They did?" Tara's eyes got big.

"Not what you'd say! But kind of like something was speaking through you."

"Whoa. I guess they were telling the truth then." Tara blinked. "I thought they w-were, but it's weird having it confirmed. By someone other than Spike, I mean, 'cause he's just sneaky." They shared a smile. "They said my people are the Earth, the Anchors, and words pass through us. I guess they mean like from one realm to another? Or one being to another? I don't know. I think they said I was a channeler or a conduit or maybe a conductor." Her eyes had dropped as she spoke, now focused on her skirt covered knees. "I- I guess I'm like a cosmic r-radio antenna?"

Willow's hands released hers, but found her face instead. "I always knew you had something extra about you. Something more incredible than anyone else."

"Y-you think it's incredible?"

"I think everything about you is incredible. Especially-" Willow's voice got a dreamy quality about it, "especially the part about you loving me."

"I loved you right away. I knew there was something about you, too."

"We're perfectly matched." Willow's eyes lit up. "Aren't we?"

"Yes." Tara felt giddy, and they simultaneously reached for the other to hug. Then they giggled as they rolled into a kissing tangle on the floor. "Oh, head rush."

"Everywhere rush." Willow hinted naughtily.

"I love you." Tara laughed.

"I love you more."

"Nu-uh." Tara stuck out her tongue.

"Uh-huh!"

"It's a tie."

"Arm wrestle you for it?" Willow waggled her hand.

"Oh, please, I'm so not butch." Tara collapsed back on her rug in a happy flop.

"But you pack one hell of a punch, my magical, mystical goddess- girl." Willow flopped over with her, smiling adoringly.

"I don't think I've ever, ever been this happy." Tara finally panted as the giggles left her.

"Nope. Weird, huh? That it took so long?"

"You have to wait sometimes. For the one who really fits you." Tara sighed.

There was contented silence. So much left to say, but all that needed to be said was said for the moment.

Except for one thing. "This is how they feel." Willow said with simple conviction.

Tara knew who "they" were. "I think so, too."

"They probably don't want everyone to know that."

"Not yet."

"But they know we know, don't they?"

"Probably. But we just have to let them get there in their own time I guess. It's pretty new for them. New feelings take time to sort out and stuff." Tara spoke with the authority of having watched Willow tackle her old feelings for Oz and her new ones for herself simultaneously. "Plus- their history. Oooh, messy."

"I know. But you know what? Buffy once told me that the pain and the complicatedness- for her that's where the fire comes from."

"Spike won't give her any pain now." Tara remembered the visions she'd seen, Buffy cradling Spike's sleeping form, right there in that very room.

"I hope no one else does. Joyce is going to flip when she hears about this. If she ever does."

"I think she'll have to someday. When you're really in love, your feelings start to show on your face." Tara beamed suddenly. "See?"

Willow beamed back. "I see."

* * *

><p>"I'll see her for a quick moment before patrol. Just around sunset, I imagine." Giles cradled the phone under his chin and rearranged his Watcher Diaries, where he'd been writing incessantly for almost twelve hours. "All of them should be here and we'll compare notes, more in depth than our previous meeting."<p>

"Okay. Um. Well, I just wanted to thank you, Rupert. For being honest with me, and sitting down to explain a few things." Joyce twirled the phone cord around her finger as she sat in the small office of her gallery. "You know- you're the first person who ever offered to do that for me."

"I'm sorry I didn't try harder to do this before. As I said, Watchers are forbidden to form emotional bonds with their charges. That includes worrying about the concerns of their parents and personal lives." He sighed and dangled a pocket watch before his eyes before tucking it gently in a desk drawer. "However- I've changed my position on that. I'm Buffy's Watcher, but I'm also her friend, and I care for her deeply. I thought you'd feel better knowing that. Knowing how- how hard her job is, but knowing she'll no longer be going it alone."

"Right. Right, that's good." Joyce exhaled, distracted by a few nagging thoughts she was afraid to share, questions she was afraid to hear the answers to. "Rupert? Should- should her father be told?"

"That's her choice." Giles said stiffly. _I'm her father, dammit. She's not my blood, but she's borne out of all my devotion and service and love. Isn't that sufficient?_

"Hank doesn't get involved very much anymore. Buffy stopped wanting him to, it seemed. Almost immediately after her eighteenth birthday. When he cancelled out on taking her for their birthday tradition."

_The night she knew she no longer needed him. The night she found that I had a father's love for her. It was the worst night of our lives, and yet, at the end, she knew and I knew, irrevocably, that we were family. Oh, I'm deluded. I don't care._ "Yes, I do recall that. She uh- she only went to see him twice this year, isn't that right?"

"And he only was available for one of the two." She sighed heavily. "If only he was trying to understand, then I'd say this would help him, but-"

"But he no longer makes the effort, so why expose him to the risks?"

"I was thinking more along the lines of why expose Buffy to his ridicule and maybe he'd try to hospitalize her. Oh God, Rupert, I don't want him involved! Does that make me a bad mother?"

_No, a bloody marvelous one, just right for me. Mustn't say that._ "I think it makes you a loving and concerned mother. Let's let Buffy choose, shall we?"

"Okay. Okay, yes, Buffy's choice. Erm. Speaking of choices- do you remember what I said last night? The things Anya mentioned about how the Chosen side eventually consumes all the humanity in the Slayer?"

"She may have overstated that, but yes. Yes, we've seen it happen more often than not. It's the loneliness and the constant battling, killing, wiping out more and more ties with the normal world and people you love. I assure, I swear to you- I will not allow that to happen to Buffy."

Joyce felt a comforted glow inside her. For the first time in nearly five years, since Hank stopped being the wall she leaned on and she began to take all the burdens on her woefully unprepared shoulders. "I'll hold you to that."

"I would be concerned if you didn't. I'd expect nothing less from you." He returned, the faintest trace of flirtation in his tone.

Joyce flushed and returned to the matter at hand. _I'd forgotten he could be charming. So charming._ "These Chosen Ones then, these young girls. None of them live very long?"

"Buffy will. I know." _Too right I know._

"That's a good attitude, Rupert, but please don't sugarcoat it for me. I have reasons for asking. These girls, they don't usually live long. How long is long?"

His voice was solemn and barely audible. "Twenty five is unheard of. Twenty is rare."

Joyce choked down a sob and blinked hard. "Do you think the loneliness has something to do with that? Losing the human side?"

"I wouldn't be surprised, although no studies have ever been conducted, Joyce. Buffy and I are crossing new territories. She's remarkable, and I'm proud to serve her in any way I can. I would say, based on what I observe in Buffy, that the more ties to the world, the more likely she is to remain focused on being in it."_ And as Spike will tell me, about a year from now when he and I sit down and talk about this, Slayers lose those ties, and the death wish strengthens. They can't bear to kill one more thing without drinking from their own black well. And we'll talk about how lucky Buffy is, that she lost that wish, that she gave her gift to him instead..._

"That's good. And love and friendship, and family, those are all strong ties she has."

"Unequivocally so."

"So what about marriage?"

_Lord, I haven't been speaking out lout have I?_ "Pardon?"

"Marriage, did any of them ever have their own families? Children?"

"Well, of course, the earliest slayers we have no documentation on, but I- I would imagine it very unlikely. She would have to tell her spouse about her nocturnal trips, which I can't imagine he'd support. Although- although I could be wrong."

"But you don't think you are."

"No, I don't." He confessed gravely.

"Still- this has been going on for thousands and thousands of years! Not one, in all that time?"

"Oh, I imagine there have been many who had lovers. Trysts. More lately, since society has become more permissive. Still- no marriages. So many factors go against it, I'm afraid. Telling a person you hunt demons and you have to work nights..." They shared a bitter laugh. "You can see the issues. Not to mention- males typically are the stronger sex. Finding a man who accepts his girlfriend's uncanny ability to hurl him a hundred feet with one well placed kick has to be a challenge. Finding a man who could cope with a wife constantly torn between the "normalcy" of a home life and the secret, dangerous work of slaying would be almost impossible."

"But you believe it could happen." Joyce asked desperately. _Please don't let me have ruined her only chance by sending Angel away. Oh, I know Anya says he's wrong for her but I didn't know then. I didn't know he might have been her only chance, I didn't know the "slaying" wasn't a phase, I thought it might get better... Stupid Joyce, foolish, foolish Joyce..._

"If we're willing to accept Buffy's choice of a boyfriend, yes, I see no reason why we shouldn't hope for marriage someday."

"And children? Can they- can they have babies, these women?"

"I've heard of one or two that did." _Only one, but there were probably others, kept in secret, lost before birth in the heat of battle. Oh, heaven, the deaths we have to answer for that we can't even know of..._

"But no marriage?"

Giles spoke softly. "No. No marriage, I'm sorry to report." _Poor Nikki Wood. Well, they couldn't have gotten married, could they? Crowly would have been sacked on the spot, and Wood wouldn't have wanted to lose her Watcher and her lover, and the father of her child, all in one go. Oh Lord, the scandals Father used to speak of when I was younger. Sprouted a dozen ulcers in the seventies, and now I understand why. No wonder they trained the next generation of us so vigorously, kept us all as emotionless as tweed robots. No wonder Father looked apoplectic in my dream. Even dead and ethereal he still managed to look outraged- 'til he came to his bloody senses..._

"So that's it. She'll never get married and if she has a baby it'll be hers to raise alone?"

"No! No, no. Buffy is the only Slayer to involve her mother, to have friends, to have boyfriends who've helped her. She's like sunshine, Joyce, and we all bask in it. We all rush to defend it, because it's precious to us, and the world needs it, needs her."

"You're quite the poet, Rupert." Joyce finally chuckled.

"Well... I- I thank you." He faltered. There was only so much smoothness left in him, after all. He'd done exceedingly well so far, if he said so himself. "I was just trying to put your mind at ease."

"You have. I just wish she had the chance to have those things."

"She will Joyce. The question is, will we still be there to celebrate those things with her?"

"What do you mean?" She gripped the phone.

"I mean, we must support her, trust her choices." Silence. "Joyce?"

"You know about Angel, don't you?"

"What about him?"

"Why he left."

"I know he left because he wanted to give her a normal life. Sadly, that's something no one can do, no matter how we try. Still, I was glad to see him gone, although I was saddened for her sake. However- Buffy wouldn't take him back now."

"She wouldn't?"

"No. She knows what love is now. It's constant, it's faithful, not just to the gates of hell- but to trips to the movies and putting up with your annoying habits. Being willing to fight by your side, do the dishes afterward, and then not worry if you've got class the next morning."

"And you think there's a guy out there who can do all that?"

_Guy is such a mercifully loose term._ "I live in hope, Joyce."

"Good. Then I will, too." She smiled a strange, almost confused smile into the phone and murmured, "Thanks again. Good bye, Rupert."

"Have a good day, Joyce." He gently placed the receiver down. "There now. Hope for all of us."

_To be continued..._


	28. Chapter 28

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are._

_Author's note: A couple little worries get dealt with. A lot of thinking, a lot of conversation- and one little bit of action._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius 120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, HachimansKitsune, Illusera, _ _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, to make you think, Medusamylove, Babyfaith18, RagnarBlackmane, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Spike'smate, McPastey, sbyamibakura, baberuthless, jbasuka, mike13z50,and Edward Cullen brings sexy back. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXVIII

"-and then I realized the- the -uh- watch was a symbol of all the time we'd disturbed and how the -uh- the watch represents time that slips by. It's a symbol of duty. Watches for the Watchers, as it our time is theirs. Even at the expense of other pursuits." Giles laughed nervously, telling the end of his tale. As much as he'd tell for now, at any rate.

"A gold pocket watch?" Buffy demanded suddenly.

"Erm- yes. Yes, rather tarnished I'm afraid. Handed down for generations."

"You gave me that! In my dream, you gave me that and the Manus card!" Buffy turned excitedly to Tara.

"That makes fifty two things we found in common." Willow put down her pad with an excited, worried gleam in her eyes._ And it'd make about a hundred and fifty two if we'd all tell the whole story. But we can't. Tara could barely tell _me_ about her dreams, I don't think she can tell the rest of them- not all at once. Maybe someday she'll at least tell Buffy or maybe Xander. Oh God, maybe not Xander, I don't think she'd like telling him about that one part with him and I and -oh boy, come to think of it, I don't think _I_ even wanna tell him that part._

"I don't remember giving you anything." Tara frowned.

"Maybe it was the other you. I mean the- the not you- you. You said you were borrowed." Buffy was relieved when her friends nodded. After five rounds of dream sharing, everyone was getting used to the confused sounding explanation- and even weirder, they were starting to make some sort of sense.

"Ah! That leads us back to the 'channeler' or 'conduit' theory. Spike, hand me the Helmsler Compendium on Astral Communication."

"Get it yourself, I'm busy." Spike struck a match off the edge of the battered television Giles kept hidden among the stacks of books.

Giles glared and gasped. "Don't smoke near those volumes, they're ancient!"

"So is he." Xander muttered.

"I'm not hurtin' anything." Spike puffed obstinately.

"No, but if you don't listen, _I'll_ hurt you." Buffy said with a large, fake smile.

"Like to see you try." Spike snorted.

"Giles, can I use this?" Buffy yanked a ceremonial dagger (turned occasional unceremonious letter opener) from his desk.

"Don't puncture him. Whatever the guys in the dream put in might leak out." Anya reminded the slayer. Spike gave them all a smug look.

"We don't know if that's something real, or symbolic, or just plain cooky like the cheese man!" Xander protested. _Duh. It's symbolism. There isn't a "key" in his chest, unless it's the key to Buffy's heart. See? Symbolic. Man, I haven't used that word so much since I flunked sophomore poetry._

"So stabbing you and doing some damage is probably a one in three shot? I like the odds." Buffy sauntered closer, and Spike blew smoke in her face- almost. He directed it just past her ear. _Oooh, true love._

"Oh, put it down, Slayer." Spike snuffed out the cigarette. "Heaven forbid I burn the only book that's gonna explain little Earth Mother's communication dilemmas or my internal prezzie."

"Would the pair of you please shut up?" Giles got up and got the book himself, glaring at both Spike and Buffy. "Do stop acting like school children. This is serious. And before I forget- Willow, get your pen back in hand- Buffy, Tara, the 'borrowed' Tara, gave you the watch and the card. Then what happened?"

"That's when she met the hellcat, first edition." Spike muttered.

"No, no, that's when she saw the cheese guy." Anya, who had listened to these story telling sessions, put in her oar.

"It wasn't either of those. I don't think so, anyway. I just remember I wouldn't take them. I think I said I knew what they did." Buffy rubbed her temple, leaning against the corner table where Spike sat, trying to recall clearly.

"Which is?"

"Well- if you choose the watch and the fists- you have to fight. I mean, fight and follow orders, and do nothing else. 'Cause see- the other card had a picture of all of you. But you have to choose. I think. I think I chose right, right?" Buffy sat down, the picture of a woman in a deep, tortured thought. "I know I have a duty. But I could do it, and I could do it with you guys. If I do what the Watchers want and I take the card and the watch, that's all I am, something they control, not a whole person, just a thing to fight. Things to fight don't need anything or anyone... so I wouldn't love anyone." Buffy's voice was just a whisper now. "So I kept the card with all of you on it instead. I- I thought they said choose love."

"They did!" Came the resounding, reassuring chorus. Buffy looked up, smiling shakily.

"I didn't mean to let anyone down." She looked particularly at Giles.

"Oh, hell you never let anyone down." Spike, the accidental seat she'd chosen, patted her back awkwardly, eyes nonchalantly aimed elsewhere.

"Sorry!" Buffy realized she had perched on his knee and jumped up guiltily.

"Not complaining." Spike shrugged.

"Back to work then. Willow- what was the last event we had?" Giles said briskly. He didn't bother to exchange looks with anyone in the little group. He knew exactly what they were thinking. _Well. It's only been a week since the event. Accidentally sitting on his lap and him not throwing her off or copping a feel. And only one slight threat of physical violence. Good Lord, it's practically a declaration of love._

* * *

><p>"We have to stop doing that lovey dovey crap." Spike walked along beside Buffy in the purple May twilight.<p>

"What- threatening to kill each other in public? That's old news."

"You sat on my lap an' didn't hit me."

"Sorry. Next time you want me to kick you or something?"

"Nah. They keep hintin' at it anyway. This has been one of the longest weeks of my life. Why the hell couldn't we sit down an' have done with it in one go? Been torture, waitin' to see if they'd spring it on us."

"I know. But-at least it's done now. I _think_ it's done now, anyway, since we all talked, had turns, interrupted, and compared notes, and -

"-and talked and talked and talked some more." Spike snorted.

"Well, sorry to inconvenience you, but hello, not only do we save the world from Franken-face, but three of us had our finals this week! I finished my World Lit exam at 1:45 today. You are looking at a sophomore-to-be, Baby!" Buffy beamed and did a little victory twirl on the sidewalk.

"You know that sophomore means 'wise fool', right?"

"It does? I mean- yes, I knew that." Buffy gave a haughty (and completely dishonest) nod of her head.

"Yeah, sure you did." Spike nonchalantly opened his arm, trying to make it look like a prolonged stretch. Buffy took the bait and leaned against him.

"It really does?" She pouted up at him.

"Swear to it." Spike leaned his jaw briefly to her head.

"How do you know so much?" She asked, a little pout remaining, in a playfully petulant voice.

"I did go to university, Luv. Ages ago, but... I was a man of letters." Buffy frowned, perplexed, and he sighed. "It means I had my degree, you twit."

"Hey!" She elbowed him hard.

"God, I'll be glad when the car's fixed. At least when we drive you don't get rough with me since we might crash." He rubbed his ribs with a snarl.

"I'm too busy praying we don't crash anyway." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"More like prayin' I pull you into the back seat and make you do your river impression."

"My what?"

"You do tend to flow all over me."

"You are such a pig." She grumbled, secretly longing for him to make her do just that.

"You know you like it." He rasped huskily against her ear, smiling quietly.

"Sometimes." Buffy tilted her head and gave him a bemused look. "You know- whatever those guys put in you might not be physical, or leak out, but it's in there. I can tell."

"How's that?"

"You're less jerk-like."

"I've been less jerk-like around you for weeks." Spike squeezed her waist playfully. "You make me happy, Pet."

"You make me happy, too." She whispered.

They walked a few blocks in the gathering darkness. Summer time was quiet with the long twilights and longer days, and the short times of pure darkness where the more virulent of demons could safely hunt. This summer was more quiet than Buffy'd ever seen before, with so much of the demon population having fled, being dead, or licking their wounds in hiding.

_This is oddly perfect. The guy I love, walking with me. Ready to kill the baddies. Or maybe go someplace where no one knows us, like that place on 61 where we get burgers. And we'll play a song in the juke box this time. Oh poop, his car isn't fixed yet... Well, it's still perfect, the walking and just knowing. Just knowing he loves me and he gets me. All of me._

"Speakin' of happy- wanna go give me one?" Spike turned their steps abruptly in the direction of Restfield.

_And I don't even care that he does that crap. Because I can do _this. She turned her widened eyes to him and pouted.

"Oh, Luv... you know I don't mean to- oh, hell, you know I like to be with you,don't wanna rush this bit, Slayer. Jus' how I talk, Heart."

And when he called her that, she couldn't even gloat. She melted. _His heart. The thing that keeps him alive- well, alive-ish, and with me._ "I can't wait to give you all the happiness you want." She assured.

_Bloody hell, she's amazing._ "Think you already do that." He turned her in the weak glow of a half-burnt out street lamp, and kissed her gently, steadily. "Come home with me?"

"Yes, please." Buffy laughed breathlessly, and wiped lip gloss off his cold, perfect mouth, so used to sneering and smirking, so lately shining with smiles. "I always come home to you. Makes it easy when you're never going to leave, when you're always waiting."

* * *

><p>Riley didn't mind waiting for his quarry. The moon was mostly hidden under clouds, the breeze was warm, and the humidity hadn't surfaced.<p>

He slowly made his way through the darkness, right to the familiar and disappointing clearing that faced Hostile Seventeen's crypt. Then he collapsed, and actually hoped he'd have to wait for his final good deed for Sunnydale and Buffy, his parting gift before he shipped out in the morning. Four weeks furlough to recuperate and be debriefed, then off to Central America with real demon hunters. Demon hunters who killed the monsters, not messed with their heads.

Riley shifted and wheezed. Maybe he needed the time off. His chest was taped and dressed, and breathing was- "interesting", to put it politely. He needed the rest, frankly, he thought as he leaned back on a shrub. It had taken him a week to get released on his own recognizance, and civilian drugs and pain killers just didn't compare once you're used to a drugged diet and steroid laced everything.

He ignored the pain as he lay in wait. "It's gonna be worth it..." Buffy needed this. She didn't need him, fine, he was okay with that, really. Mostly. No, no, don't think about that part. Anyway, it didn't matter, he wasn't doing this for himself, for some jealous reason, no. It was because, no matter what Buffy did with that monster, he was still a monster. Monsters belonged in the ground. Not in cages, not in labs, not in the world, that was for damn sure. Buffy had a blind spot for this one escaped specimen, and that blind spot would only grow until it blotted out everything, bathed everything in Sunnydale's official colors- shades of gray.

"-totally asked her out, so we'd have the place to ourselves."

"I don't care, I asked Clem to stop in with his friend Nate. They got hold of some plumbing supplies that fell off the back of a lorry, an' we'll put in a bathroom. Don't need to crash at your mum's. Was risky enough last weekend, an' twice in a month is too high stakes, even for me."

"I'm not saying not to put in a bathroom at your place, I'm saying my house will be free for the whole weekend! Besides, you'd better get used to being around the house more, because my tuition doesn't cover room and board unless I take three summer courses, which I am sooo not doing, so there's no dorm-ness until September. And- ooh- Tara and Willow are going to some Wiccan Sisterhood thing on this Mojave reservation this weekend, too. Or was it retreat? I don't know. But no one'll interrupt us. And- and does 'fell off the back of a lorry' mean stolen? From a truck?" Buffy rambled excitedly.

Spike stifled a laugh. She was so sickeningly adorable sometimes. "Why, no. It means some forgetful old gentleman happened to leave his tailgate down." Spike replied with heavy sarcasm.

"You don't have to mock me all the time!"

"It's not mocking', it's my form of teachin' the English language. Ow! Oh, I'm gonna get you..."

"Try!"

Then laughter filled the night.

* * *

><p>Riley tensed as heard the voices drawing closer. Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit, Buffy was with the HST! Of course, why not? Why not make this as painful as inhumanely possible, that was the Sunnydale motto, probably somewhere in the town charter. He held his breath suddenly. A twig snapped and two figures came into view, done laughing, back in conversation once again.<p>

"-can't think your mum would stay out the whole night, Buffy. They only met for coffee."

"And dinner that night!"

"But seriously, it's Rupes!"

"It's a museum opening in Los Angeles, and Mom would _never_ get to go except for Giles. He used his old British Museum curator connections and got them passes to the two hour opening night gala stuff before the official opening the next day. They _have_ to stay over night or they'd miss the full tour."

"Why aren't you a bit more fussed about this?"

"Because I'll kick his ass if he hurts her, and Mom says it isn't a date. It's not like they're spending the night 'together'. She's staying with our old neighbors, and he's staying with the guy who refinished all of our swords and axes before he learned how to do it this year while he had so much free time." Spike quirked an eyebrow. "What, he can't make friends in a similar line of work? Swords, slaying, it's all relative."

"Well, guess he can. Happened to us, didn't it, Luv?"

"Mmm, that's right, Baby." Buffy leaned up and kissed him- then groaned. "You people are driving me nuts!" She suddenly yelled.

Riley tucked himself into a crouch and prepared for her confrontation, but her outburst wasn't directed at him.

She continued loudly. "I must've killed ninety percent of the vampire population in the last two weeks, but no! Someone still found time to sneak out and grab dinner."

"What are you on about- oh. A newbie." Spike released her with a sigh as he stared at the recently dug grave. "Want me to do it?"

"Nah. I'm just gonna wait 'til he goes all 'vamp-in-the-box' and dust him before he even gets all the way out." Buffy stomped off in the direction of where she saw stirring earth, and left Spike to make his way to the crypt.

"You want me to stay for the show? You know the only thing hotter than you on me is you on the hunt."

"No hunt. Strictly slay and dust-making, then back to you."

"Love the sound of that. I'm gonna make some blood, you peckish, Luv?"

Riley choked on a gasp. _Oh, God. I'm too late... Then wait, why is she staking the new one?_

"No! Ewww!"

"I meant for 'people food', you dozy cow. I got some hot cocoa."

"Where?" She demanded.

"Oh, fine, I nicked it from your mum's the last time we were over, alright? One of this week's sharin' sessions. An' I _don't_ think she'd mind, she always makes me some anyway." He reminded her in an annoyed voice.

"Then why didn't you just ask, idiot?"

" 'Cause I'm evil, Luv. Stealin' chocolate from unsuspectin' homeowners. Pure badass." He threw his head back with a pained wince. "God, I've come down in the world."

"Oh, I don't know... you bagged your third slayer. You're still the Big Bad in my book. " She purred in a sultry tone, stroking his ego, surprised at herself, but then not so much. He stroked _her_ ego all the time. It was getting to be as natural as bantering or insulting, as comfortable as praising Willow, joking with Xander, making little jabs at Giles' stuffiness. She loved that Spike knew how to return the favor, though, coming from the same mindset as herself. Giving her praise was something no one else knew how to do without making her feel like she was a some kind of savior or some kind of freak. Only Spike, who just made her feel like _her._ She pursed her lips seductively and added one more little temptation, calling to her lover, "The _very_ Big Bad."

Riley listened, stomach churning, jealousy working overtime. _She never spoke to_ me_ like that. Ever. Okay, once. That was Faith. She's evil. Oh, no, Buffy's turning evil! No, wait, that's crazy, that's chipped-brain type of talk. She's not evil. It's just him. The way he makes her act. I have to stop this. I have to stop it now!_

"Yeah, you keep thinking that, Baby. Remind yourself you're the best ever- since you got the Big Bad to play nice."

"Oh, boy, am I good." She giggled. "Oop- I see knuckles. I'll be in in a couple minutes." She returned her full attention to the rising vamp as one hand breached the ground.

"Right, I'm gonna run in and heat up the drinks."

Riley waited until Spike entered the crypt, almost gleeful in the midst of his rage and determination when the vampire left his door partway open for his lover to follow him. Then he waited for Buffy's focus to be elsewhere, mainly on the opening grave. He wanted this to be painful- but it'd have to just be quick and clinical. That really was the kindest thing for everyone. Everyone, before more people got hurt.

_She doesn't even see what he's doing. All she'd have to do is listen to him talk, the smug, slimy bastard, bragging about worming his way into her life, even stealing from her mother and then she makes jokes..._ Riley let out a soft, low growl, a noise he didn't even know he could make. The situation made him sick and it had to end.

Riley grabbed his rifle, something they had neglected to take from him, probably had figured he'd need it on his new mission. He had it charged to the max to stun with its blue flash of power, and then the trigger could release a stake, launch it straight at the heart. It wasn't as personal as he'd have liked, but then again, even chipped, Spike was dangerous and Riley wasn't feeling too hot. Plus, having Buffy there, that was going to be one hell of a problem. Maybe this way he could just get in and out before she even realized. It'd be heartbreaking for her to walk in on a pile of nothing, but- he swallowed, hating the image of her lost face, her tears- then remembered why they were being shed and hardened his heart. Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind. He steeled himself, juiced the rifle to be ready for a quick shot, and charged the half open door.

* * *

><p>Spike hummed as he poured the blood and zapped the microwave to life, then rummaged for the gallon of spring water Buffy had brought over recently. He could go down and get water straight from the pipes, then carry it back up the ladder, but he didn't feel like it. He wanted to be there the second she walked in, not waste a moment apart from her, or waste energy he should spend on her. And they had so much energy to spend... His humming changed to singing as his heart swelled with unfamiliar contentment. "London calling to the underworld. Come out of the cupboard, all you boys and girls. London calling, now don't look at - what the fuck was that!" Spike jumped as his microwave went bright blue and the air fizzled. It reminded him of getting struck by a wave at the knees, he wobbled, but didn't fall, although it felt like the ground was shaking.<p>

"Slayer? Buffy!" Spike turned from his microwave and walked quickly towards the door, calling for her. "Luv, did you get a big blue flash out there?" He called as he moved, noticing his elderly television set was also smoking, though it hadn't been on. "What just happened?"

* * *

><p>"What just happened?" Riley picked himself up and shook his head as he blinked. One foot on the concrete of the crypt, fingers barely on the door, and boom! Thrown back ten feet and his tailbone hurt.<p>

"Stay down! I'm going to do this real quick so don't- ugh!- get grabby with me." Buffy was arguing with the confused fledging she was in the process of eliminating as it thrashed and clawed its shoulders to the surface. Riley heard her words and knew he didn't have another moment to waste sitting on his backside. He ran.

* * *

><p>Spike ran the few steps to the door, and paused in horrified disgust. Finn. Face to face. "Wonderful. You're out of the hospital an' you stopped by to thank us for savin' the world from your lab rat gone bad? No problem, happy to do it- now sod off." He snarled.<p>

Riley aimed his weapon and muscled up to the door- only to get tossed back again.

"Oh, see- you need an invite now, Soldier Boy. You can't come in without me askin' you. An' I'm not plannin' to. So shove off. Now."_ Before Buffy gets involved..._

"You don't get to invite people in. That's a human thing." Riley grunted, rising painfully.

"Yeah, well, former human here. Part human still. Enough to keep you out, an' me in. Now toddle off."

"No!" Riley held his weapon angrily but didn't fire. He needed to get closer to zap him. And the stake he'd see coming, he'd just move out of the way. "You have to come out sometime." He reminded him. "Or I'll find a way in. It's just a matter of time."

"Yeah, well, time is what you don't have. I'm not exactly on my own in the matter. An' I don't think you're ex is real happy with you lately, Iowa, so I'd run along."

Riley retreated a step or two. Still seething, he began to backtrack for his bag he left in the clearing. Hard to be invited into a house when the house is gone. One nice grenade would leave Spike in the open, then in the trashcan. And as for Buffy- well, he'd make sure she didn't get hurt.

"Fine. Stay there." Finn smiled callously, and backed away, eyes trained on him, then sweeping to the sides.

Spike toyed with the idea of going out there and just wasting the prat. Sure it was safe in the spell-protected crypt, and those army goons had taken down once. There was always a toss up if you fight, that you get the kill or be killed rush, and that's why he loved it. So the boy had a fancy toy gun. _He_ had his fangs back, he could snap Finn's neck like a muscular twig. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted it. The boy deserved it, for the chip, for his stupid insults and all the horrors he and his green goons unleashed, for every tear he made my girl shed. Spike's fists balled. Now he could feel the bones snapping under his hand, could smell the kill.

And then he wondered why that thought hadn't been more automatic. How come he had to even think about it, why hadn't he just gone after the pillock? _Damn chip. Been in collared territory for too long. Or could be because if I kill, there goes Buffy trusting me, though in this particular case she- oh bugger! Oh, bloody hell, Buffy!_

Spike flew out of the house, vamping as he crossed the threshold. The boy had veered off course, not going towards Buffy, going back towards the ring of trees at the side of the cemetery, but that didn't fully register in Spike's mind.

Riley hadn't expected that. He cursed himself, because maybe he should have. But who would think a helpless, neutered vampire would charge down the guy who'd chipped him in the first place, who held the weapon and all the cards? Nonetheless, there it was, Spike, fangs flashing and eyes burning gold, roaring and lunging. He fired.

Spike dodged the blue spark that arced out and latched onto the boy's shoulders, pushing him back, trying to hurl him to the ground and stay unstaked at the same time.

Buffy heard the commotion, and decided she couldn't wait for the emerging vamp to get all the way out to heart-stabbing level. She twisted his head 'til it snapped and turned to ash in the air, before she ran. Her feet barely touched the ground and she couldn't even yell, her throat was frozen in fear. _Someone's after him. Someone's gonna hurt my whole world if they hurt him._

But Spike wasn't on the receiving end of any pain at the moment. He managed to knee the weapon from Finn's hands and was pinning him now, grappling on the uneven turf.

"You got - your chip out." Riley gasped through breaking ribs.

"Aren't you smart." Spike slammed the agent's head back to the ground and grabbed his thick neck in one hand. "Are you after her or me?" He hissed.

Riley just blinked, startled looking. _How could he ever assume I'd hurt her? Oh. Yeah, could be because of me acting like a psycho on steroids..._

"Answer me, White Bread!" Spike shook him hard, slamming his skull into the grass.

"Spiiiike!" Buffy's terrified, breathless shout reached his ears, and his human face face flashed into place for a split second. Riley saw a worried man, eyes only for the blonde screaming across the ground.

"Not her." Riley choked out, pushing on Spike's wrist, slamming his knees into the vampire's chest, flipping him in the one second he was distracted. "You!"

Spike's fangs emerged with a tortured roar when the commando pressed something, something like a crossbow, to his chest, just over the heart. _I am_ not _going to die again. I didn't ask her if I could leave, so I'm bloody well not leavin'!_ He regretted his poor tactical position, but there was only one thing for it- he'd have to bite the arm holding the weapon, and do it fast. Buffy'd chosen him over Finn before, she'd just have to understand this time as well. That was his plan, but he never got the chance.

"Touch him and you're dead, Riley." Buffy's voice was like splintered ice, cold and cracked, coming from a few feet away.

"He's a monster." Finn didn't move, and Spike stayed still, as if waiting for a cue.

"Aren't we all." Buffy muttered drily, voice closer now. "Now let him up." Spike could see her now, standing just behind his assailant.

"Buffy, you know I'm on your side, but he -" Riley's voice died abruptly as something cold and metallic pressed into the back of his neck. She must've picked up his gun, had the steel electrode terminals at the base of his skull. But she'd never hurt him, not kill him, not in cold blood."Buffy..." He murmured.

"Death is my gift. Wanna see?" She whispered.

Spike could see what Riley couldn't, looking behind him, seeing his girl standing over him, gun in her hands, face a solid mask, eyes blank but tear filled. _That's the Slayer. That's a Slayer in love. It costs her everything. But she'd pay it for me._

"You don't murder people." Riley stalled, loosening his grip on Spike slightly.

"But you do?" Buffy laughed with an edge of hysteria.

"He's not a person."

"I'm lyin' right here!" Spike grunted in annoyance.

"He's a vampire, Buffy! He's unchipped and he's got some spell on his rat's nest, he's dangerous and you can't see it."

"You won't be seeing anything when your eyeballs are shooting out of your head, along with your brains." Buffy gagged on the words she said, the image she created, and she felt tears threatening to overflow. _Goodbye, humanity. Maybe you'll come back some day. I don't really care. I can't live through a second broken heart, and when Spike's implodes, so does mine. Maybe this is what Sineya meant. Maybe I'll lose everything with this one little pull of a trigger, and I'll always be alone anyway- because I love someone enough to kill for them._

"You're bluffing." Riley hissed.

"She isn't." Spike whispered, nostrils flared at the first hints of true fear he smelled on the boy, turning into a wave of the stench.

"I'm really not. Sorry, Riley. Let him go- or- or I show you the dark side of slaying." She pressed the muzzle in harder, her hands white and lips pale cream as all the blood seemed to ebb away in mounting panic. "There's nothing but the kill..." She whispered dazedly, echoing Sineya.

As Riley remained frozen in doubt, Spike lunged up suddenly, and threw the boy off, tumbling immediately back on top of him. Buffy staggered a few steps to the side, but retained the weapon, training on the fighting figures. "No. No, sorry, Luv, you were never a killer, and you got everything in the world. Me included." He bared his fangs in a sickly smile at Finn. "You see, I know what she is. She's pure good. She'd kill you to save me- but unlike you- you wanker- I won't put her through that agony."

Riley waited for the death blow to land, the fangs to sink into his jugular as he lay crushed underneath ruthlessly strong hands. Instead, he felt his now glass-like jaw practically turn to powder as the demon pressed it with all his weight. And then, though in agony- he could breathe again.

Spike stood, feeling strangely dizzy. "Break that thing." He commanded hoarsely to Buffy, who snapped the rifle like a toothpick. "Get up. Go far, far away, an' remember you can't come near my home. An' when they can't fix your face, pretty boy, remember who gave you that little present. Two from her, one from me. An' I hate when she wins, so I'd love to even up the score."

Riley scrambled up, unable to speak, only to stare. Buffy seemed to be having the same problem, staring at her lover in open mystification. Spike waved his arms in semi-exasperation. "What? I told you- death isn't your gift, Slayer. You gave that to me. You bring me to life. Thought I'd do the same for worthless here. Once." He glared at Finn. "An' only once." Spike shoved him farther away, hard, eyes trained to the side, on Buffy's incredulous face.

"Proof enough?" He asked softly. Buffy nodded wordlessly. They didn't need more words. Sparing Riley was beyond evidence that Spike could control himself, chipped or not.

Buffy, however, had lost a lot of her self control in the last harrowing moments. Watching the person you truly, finally love about to be killed by your former pale substitute robs a person of most rational thought, and instinct takes over. The Slayer and the Lover had united for a moment. True power, true unbridled venom and rage could come from hate and desperation, but it was a thousand times more potent when fueled by love.

Buffy pushed past Spike to grab Riley by the arm, disarming him as she began to pull on him, tossing his belt with its various weapons from him, yanking his vest off angrily, and leading him away from the crypt, towards the road. "Spike didn't kill you."

Riley made a noncommittal noise, the best he could manage.

"I told you in the letter- I didn't want to see you again. You could have left it alone. You could have left things to end on an okay note, but no. You had to rescue me. Guess what? I. Don't. Need. RESCUING!"

"Buu-" His garbled speech was cut off by a furious slap to his face. Torrents of tears had suddenly begun to cascade down her face and she stood, shaking in rage and grief.

"I thought you could finally see. That I'm a good guy. That I have reasons. That I come through. You think I can't see- but you're the one who's blind. Don't speak-" She held up a hand, "or I'll just slap you again." He closed his mouth with difficulty. She wiped her eyes roughly, and cast a lighting glance behind her. Spike hovered about ten feet behind, trying not get in her way, but obviously still not trusting Finn. She loved him for that. For mastering the art of being there without being in the way. Buffy's voice dropped to a hiss. "Spike didn't kill you. He actually _won't_ kill you, because he loves me and he doesn't want to hurt my heart, make it sad. Love works better than any chip, and you should know, huh?" Riley had the grace to look remotely guilty. "So, Spike won't hurt you, which means you'd better leave him alone. Permanently. Forever. All of us." He didn't nod or shake his head. Her voice dropped even more, this time the heat under it was enough to singe a person. "If you ever come near us again- he won't kill you. But I will."

Riley looked into her eyes. She wasn't bluffing. And there was something not quite- normal- about those eyes. They had depth, layers, he'd never seen. Almost like two faces, both the same, but one was so much more dangerous. The girl with that face wouldn't hesitate to keep her promise.

"Are we clear?" Buffy dropped him unceremoniously to the sidewalk that adjoined the cemetery. Riley nodded reluctantly. "I'm giving you a day to leave. Or I'll hunt you down. Go be a good guy- somewhere else. And while you're at it- look up the meaning of the word good. I'm pretty sure stalking your ex-girlfriend- and a guy you thought was helpless- aren't in the definition."

With shaking steps, she walked away from him, walking backwards, into the comfort of Spike's arms, eyes never leaving Riley's face, making sure he disappeared.

* * *

><p>"You okay?" Spike whispered.<p>

"If you are." She nodded jerkily.

"Fine, pet. Good work out." He held her tight and pressed his lips to her ear.

"I'm so sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"It helps ease the guilt." She laughed nervously, remembering the feeling she'd had, the feeling for knowing at any minute she could fall off the precipice of "slayer" into the pit of "murderer".

"Don't you dare have guilt. My fault, too. I- well, there's lots of problems here tonight, but all of them were caused by that pillock." He spat. Then, abruptly, he howled into the night, in the direction Riley had left, "While you're lookin' up good guy, look up 'orgasm', you ponce! Maybe they'll tell you how to give one to your girl, not just yourself, you little, selfish-"

"Spike!" Buffy shushed him, face flaming. "Not helping!"

"Oh." He shut his mouth with a snap. "Well- he made me mad."

She looked at him in disbelief. "He made you _mad_?"

"I wanted to rip out his throat, and pull his liver up through the hole I made at the top of his head." Spike said more eloquently.

"That sounds more like you. But- you didn't_ act_ like you."

"What do you mean?" He demanded, turning to face her, fists curling.

"Uh- not _killing_ someone?" She reminded him.

"I_ told_ you. If I do that, you're gonna get hurt, an' evil as I am, never did hurt the woman I loved. Not in the emotional way." He gave a sudden lee, and reached for her rear. "Now if someone'd been naughty-"

"Stop that!" Buffy pushed his hand off, blushing and feeling equal parts annoyed and relieved that they still had the joking, flirting part of their relationship in the aftermath of some big heart-tearing event. "This is serious!"

"I know, I know. You wanna go in, we'll get serious?" He batted his lashes.

She laughed once and sighed. "I can't go in until I know he's not sneaking back. I wouldn't think he'd be so stupid, but tonight proved otherwise."

"Luv, the minute he let you go proved otherwise." Spike put his arm around her and they began to walk through the now silent cemetery.

"You have a really good habit of saying the right things." Buffy murmured, arm tightening on his waist as they walked together. "Sometimes a _bad_ habit..." and they chuckled. "About this situation, though-"

"Look, Pet, I jus' knew it'd kill you if I killed him. So I didn't. Made his bones into a nice powdery substance, no way to reconstruct that. I'm bettin' they'll have to put in a steel plate. Match the one in his brain, maybe." He muttered grimly.

Buffy rubbed her eyes tiredly. "Spike, that's the thing. You didn't kill Riley because I had some kind of attachment to him. What about random strangers? What about muggers and murderers who 'deserve' to get punished, are they gonna get bitten?"

"Not unless it's them or me." He replied with a flash of puzzlement. "Huh. Must be real serious about you. 'Cause I mean that."

Buffy got a curious tightness in her chest. Serious. Someone was serious about her. _Oh my gosh, I can't be thinking like that. Serious doesn't mean dating and wedding bells. Serious means loving and not leaving. Serious means- oh geez, listen to me. Serious should _not_ be defined by not killing someone's ex. Oh, and that's a point._ "That's really- no one's ever- serious?" She murmured hesitantly.

"What's more serious than promisin' never to leave you?" He pointed out.

"Nothing. Nothing and no one has ever been more serious to me. Or for me." She butted her head lightly under his jaw and looked up at her. "And I want it so much." Buffy admitted.

"Why d'you have that miserable tone? The tight ass tone?" He despaired.

"Because. Because you were great, you did the right thing. You didn't kill Riley-"

"That was the right thing?" He demanded incredulously, mockery in his tone.

"Shh! I'm serious! You did the right thing, but you did it because you love me."

"And I'm back to bein' confused again." He rubbed his face tiredly. "Wasn't that the point? Wasn't that good?"

"Yes! But you did it because you knew it would make me upset, it would torture me. What's gonna happen the next time someone pisses you off or threatens you, and I'm not around, and the victim doesn't mean anything to me? What are you gonna do?" She cried desperately. "I'm just asking if you did it for me, to prove something." She said insistently, hand digging into his arm. There was silence and then a snort of exasperation.

"Y'know I love you an' you're pretty damn smart. You know that, yeah, Slayer?"

"Yes, but-"

"But you're still an airhead."

"Hey!"

"No, _you_ 'hey'. You think of me all backwards, Slayer. Yeah, I like my violence an' I'm hungry. But blood is blood, I can get it from the store. I can get it from-" _No, not gonna tell her I can get it from Willy's. I'm not sure where he gets it, but it prolly isn't legal._ "I can get it from the blood banks or hospitals. It doesn't hurt anyone!" He defended himself peremptorily. Buffy nodded with a small shrug. "Blood isn't the point. I didn't spare him for you, I spared him_ in spite_ of you. Buffy, I wanted to kill that bastard. I wanted to kill him the way I've only wanted to kill a handful of people in a century! Wanted it. Could _feel_ it." His brow ridged and he shook his neck once to bring his human face back to the front. "That's the true test, Slayer, if I can resist doin' the deed when I want it that bad. If I don't give a damn about the person, they're just fun an' games, just a drink. I can quit that all night long- if the compensation is good." He stopped and stared her down, loving the way her eyes gleamed in the night, his huntress. So she didn't hunt weak prey, like he and Dru had. She was after big game, much harder to kill than puny humans, and it was actually getting to be more of a turn on than he'd ever thought it could. He touched her cheek lightly. "The compensation is amazin'." He grinned crookedly.

"Thanks." Her lip wobbled into a broad smile.

"Fair warning, though- I can only do the noble self-sacrifice so much. If that git ever comes back, I'm gonna kill him. Painfully."

"Well- I think I'm gonna look the other way on that." Buffy said in a small guilty voice. Spike's eyebrows met his pale blonde hairline. "I was gonna kill him tonight! You stopped me from doing that! But I told him-" she sucked in a quavering breath, "I told him if I ever see his face again- he dies. I don't want to- but I can't let him- let him-"

"Shhh, Luv. No one's gonna do that. You an' me- we're a matched set. Lock an' key." He brushed his lips to hers. "Isn't that we say?"

"Yeah. Yeah, Spike, it is." She laced her hands behind his head and pulled his neck closer, kissing him deeply. "Let's go in. He's gone, and if he comes back- squish." Spike laughed and she joined in faintly. "We should go in and... and do whatever we'd planned to do."

"Oh, hell. Think the microwave's toasted, Pet. That 'Bar they Enemy' spell doesn't like mod cons. The telly's smoked as well." He grumbled, kicking at tufts of grass as she pulled him along.

"Spike." She only needed to say one word.

"Oh. Right. What we 'planned to do'. Well- I was gonna start at your ear an' work my way south."

"Funny. I was gonna start in the middle and work my way up." She giggled.

"Meet you in the middle? My middle an' yours?"

"Uh-huh." She shrieked as he suddenly tugged her arm hard and began to run.

"We'll show those dream-types exactly how well this particular lock an' key fit together."

* * *

><p>"Should we keep these together, or- or do you want one and I'll take one?" Willow and Buffy sat on their stripped beds in the barren dorm room.<p>

"Wills- you're moving in with Tara for the summer. I can read between the lines." Buffy laughed and grabbed the coveted "Chocolate" poster and let Willow have the rock band.

"No, it's not like that! It's just- she won't be going home for the summer, and I sleep over there anyway, and we're both taking summer courses-"

"And you love her. She loves you. Ergo- I'm going to need a new roomie next year, huh?" Buffy gave her a bittersweet smile and handed Willow a pair of her earrings that had somehow found their way to Buffy's dresser.

"I don't know."

"I know. You two- you make each other really happy. Honestly happy." She folded her last shirt and discreetly dropped it into the duffle bag beside the overflowing cardboard boxes. The bag- which had an unusual number of panties and a lot of toiletries, wasn't going home for the summer. But Buffy didn't need Willow to know that. "You shouldn't give up sharing her room because I'll be on my own. I might live at home. Now that Mom's gone from freaking out worried to slightly wigged understanding."

Willow had been looking for this opening all week. A chance to talk about the future and living arrangements. Loving arrangements, actually. "Yeah. O-or, you never know. You might make a new friend. I did!"

"Yeah. Stranger things have happened." _Like me making love to Spike all last night and most of this morning. And sneaking our old television out of the basement and carrying it halfway across town just so he wouldn't miss Passions- only to catch him cleaning up cobwebs I complained about._ And why? Strangeness. Friendship. Love. "Strange things happen around here all the time..."

Willow almost lost her composure then. _We know! We all know, and we're not really loving it, but we don't really hate it, either! Just _say_ you like him! Say you wanna hang out with him!_

Instead, she smiled and nodded as she continued folding, placing her final flowing skirt in one of her own full boxes. She thought about letting the hints stop, but then reconsidered. Tara and she had agreed, they had to kind of "ease" Buffy into admitting a couple things, like coming out of the "vampire closet", before someone less tactful (Anya) or more likely to explode (Joyce) outed her. Because she'd have to admit those feelings soon. They were getting too hard to ignore, even by the most practiced of denial champions. Willow steeled her emotional nerve and tried again. "You probably were really mad at me for picking Tara, weren't you?" Willow mumbled.

"Huh?" Buffy flew off the bed. "No! Oh my gosh, Wills, my mom really doesn't mind me coming back!"

"Not now. This spring. When Oz came home."

Buffy flushed guiltily. Why was she bringing that up now? "Well- no. I mean- I understand."

"Yeah. You do, _now_." Willow looked at her steadily for a few seconds before her courage gave up and she studied her lap instead. "Oz came back, and I asked him to leave. Angel came back, and he wouldn't stay. You probably thought I was taking everything you wanted for granted."

"Why with the sudden but delayed reaction insight?" Buffy asked guiltily.

"Dreams and stuff." Willow shrugged, also guiltily. Buffy started up and Willow acted fast. "About choosing love! That was in everyone's dream, so it's like the -the Scooby theme song! And you must think I don't really get it."

"Of course I don't think that! You did choose love. Just with someone new." Buffy tapped her best friend on the forehead in playful annoyance. As if Willow could ever be considered unloving, or not 'get' something so important.

"It _is_ love, Buffy." Willow looked at her with clear, unwavering eyes as the simple truths suddenly found their way from her heart to her mouth. "It's new, sure. It's different. It's- it doesn't make my heart hurt." She rubbed her chest, finding Buffy mirroring her automatically with a dull look of pain on her face, as if someone opened an old scar. "I can always love Oz, but I don't always have to miss him now. I don't always have to be sad now." She shook her head emphatically. "I think- I think love can be complicated, I know my love life was, with the triangle thing, and being a lesbian who practices magic and has a super hot mystical communicator for a girlfriend." They shared a smile. "But I think it has to have simple stuff. It has to_ feel_ simple. Even if it's not." She suddenly hugged herself and rocked forward once. "It should have those happy moments all the time, and sad moments that make you feel like you know just where to go to get your comfort. There should be laughing and teasing and just- just knowing. Simply. That the other one is really there. Waiting. Maybe it makes no sense to anyone else, but it always makes sense to you." Willow wiped at her eyes suddenly. "You know?"

"Yeah, Wills. I know." Buffy hugged her stuffed pig to her chest, and blinked down at it. _Spike and I are more complicated than anything I've ever heard of. But I'm so happy. I'm happy 'cause I likes the openness. I don't have to pretend I'm weak, or even that I'm strong. He knows I'm the Slayer, and we're not afraid to dish it out or take it physically. I always thought I'd have an empty spot in my heart that wouldn't heal- but it's started to feel a lot better lately. And it's not the complicated crap that's doing it. It's in spite of everything screwed up. No matter who we are or what we should do- I love being able to talk to him, snark at him, laugh with him- and at him. That was something Angel was too serious for. We never laughed, and I never even noticed it. Spike was right. We could have never been friends._

_But Drusilla was Spike's everything- he might not think happy but complicated was enough..._

Willow's thoughts interrupted her. "And you know what's the best?"

"Huh?" She looked up suddenly.

"When the other person gets that feeling, too. That they don't want more or less, or something different. They just want you for you. I'm enough for Tara, and she's more than enough for me. That's a big concept, but it's kinda simple, too."

Buffy said nothing. Nothing out loud, anyway._ So simple. Me and Spike- we're enough for each other. Forget Angel. Forget Dru. Forget thinking those two had been, or had meant, everything. If you can't be who you are- if you have to chase her down and buy her off, if you're not enough for her- then she doesn't deserve you. And if I have to be less than I am as a Slayer and more than I am as a woman, to play the lost little girl- that isn't worth wishing for either._

When the silence dragged on, Willow finally cleared her throat and rose, taking her boxes in her arms. "Um. I- I don't wanna leave, but we're going to try to get to the reservation by seven for the sunset."

"Oh. That's fine." Buffy rose as well, awkwardly juggling her own boxes and her bag, the last load from move out weekend.

The best friends faced each other in the bare dorm room, smiling uncertainly. "You wanna get an early dinner with us first?" Willow offered.

Buffy shook her head, and then gave her a box-bumping quasi-hug as they left the room- and a lot of other things- behind them. "No, thanks anyway."

"Are you sure?" Her voice came out pinched and high.

"Yeah. I have someplace to be, too." Buffy shouldered her bag, and looked down the hallway, not at her friend. "I think I'm gonna go hang with Spike."

Willow was speechless.

"What?" Buffy asked timidly, biting her lip in sudden nerves. _Oh God! I said it. We swore not to mention it! It's not like I told her we're just waiting for Mom to leave tonight and then we're shacking up for the weekend, but- but- oh gosh, I still said _something!_ Oh, he's gonna call me an airhead and I'm gonna have to agree._

"I didn't say anything." Willow frantically denied.

"Oh. Okay." Buffy said in a small voice, elbowing open the door at the end of the hall, anxious to leave now, not to feel Willow's eyes on her.

"But- but I _do_ have something to say." Willow rushed after her.

_Here it comes..._

"Tell Spike I said hi and we'll bring him back some of that spicy stuff he said he liked. Burba weed. They grow it on the reservation."

Buffy tripped down three stairs, but righted herself easily, clutching the jostled boxes. "That's- that's it?"

"Uh- you could tell him Tara says hi, too?" Willow offered.

Buffy nodded, dazed. "Yeah. Okay, I will." She dropped her boxes abruptly and hugged Willow until the red head yelped. "I'll miss you."

"I'm so not going anywhere. Ever. No matter what. Or- who."

Buffy couldn't speak at first. Her heart, with it's multitude of bruises and fissures, was healing exponentially. " 'Kay." She finally murmured in a choked voice.

The school clock chimed five times in the distance and both of them were jarred back to the world around them, not the little oasis in a deserted stairwell. "Time to be movin' on." Willow said with bright heartiness.

"Yeah. We both have someplace to be. Someone to be with." Buffy admitted in a low whisper. The two women shared a smile, acknowledging something so major with nothing more than a small flex of their lips.

They parted ways at the lobby entrance, Willow heading to the cafeteria, to meet Tara, Buffy heading off campus to find Spike.

As they turned from each other, they shared one common, proud thought.

_That's my girl._

_To be continued..._


	29. Chapter 29

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's note: Minor smut, major mush, and significant realizations. If you don't like mushy stuff- you're going to want to skim, okay?_

_Dedicated to ginar369- who could write a commentary on my pieces by now. To Sirius 120, who is my cheering section and takes the gold medal for encouragement this week. Alexiarrose, DLillith21, micmoc, Illusera, _ _Premise Oh Sum_, _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, to make you think, Babyfaith18, RagnarBlackmane, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Lalabuff, McPastey, sbyamibakura, rosalea12, and baberuthless. I am spoiled by the thoughtful reviews._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXIX

"Hey, good lookin'. You wanna lift? Free rides for hot blondes."

Buffy rolled her eyes and bit back a delighted smile, masking it under an indifferent look as the shiny black classic car rolled up beside her, trolling along at a snail's pace as she carried her load to the neighborhood she called home. "Oh no, you don't. I remember what happened the last time I got in your car." She shook her head, juggling her boxes, purse, and duffle bag, wondering how long pride would hold out before she begged him to pull over and stop.

"So we had one little incident with a car horn, could happen to anyone." He said through the few inches of blacked out window he dared to speak through. He left just enough room so his piercing blue eyes could take in her form in the last rays of the late afternoon's orange sun.

"Sure, anyone who can't hear a car horn four feet from their super sensory ears over their frantic sex noises." She stopped and the car stopped. Their eyes met, and she could tell by the way his cheeks crinkled up that he was smiling. She broke down and grinned. "You going my way?" She asked his eyes.

"Headin' to this little love nest two blocks up." He rolled down the window more, sinking back in the shadowy recesses of the car to be safe from the fading sun. Buffy still could see- and get the warm fuzzies from- the lean, sharp boned face as it smiled in the gloom. "Let me give you a ride an' I'll throw in dinner." He wheedled.

"Deal." Buffy relievedly relented, yanking open the backseat's door, making her lover hiss and cower, and threw her parcels in. "Sorry!" She yelped and slammed the door. She raced around to the passenger's seat and scurried in through the smallest amount of open door she could squeeze through. "Are you okay?"

"A bit toasty." He laughed and shook out his hands.

"So- what's for dinner?" Buffy asked as she settled back.

"I b'lieve your famous mac an' cheese from a box, washed down by some lovely beef blood an' a bottle of the best sugar water." He gestured to a brown paper bag at her feet on the floorboards. "See? Name brand, not the cheap stuff from the mini-mart." He pulled the bottle of soda out to show her.

"Oooh, big spender. With a shiny new car..." She purred and ran her hand over the upholstery, which was still as battered as ever, even though the body of the car had undergone a lot of work. "How'd they finish it so fast? Xander said it'd take weeks to find parts for this model."

"Would have if the chop shop wasn't demon owned. They've got warlock connections."

"And warlocks like vintage cars?" Buffy asked, wrinkling her brow.

"No." He said with a long suffering sigh. "Warlocks restore things to their former state. Provided they're non-living things and you pay 'em enough. Which the old man did."

"Oh, that's handy. Hey, I have this peasant blouse that some how got this big stain on it. Do you think they'd-" Buffy stopped speaking abruptly as they turned on to her street. She grabbed Spike's arm. "Where are you going to park your car?" Buffy suddenly demanded.

"In the garage!" He cried. "I'm not leavin' it out on the street to get run into by every tyke on a bicycle! I jus' got it back to its former glory!"

"You can't leave it in my garage, what would the neighbors say if they saw it pull in and then we didn't come out for two solid days?"

"Prolly about the same thing they said when we were here two weeks ago. Now shut up an' open the door." He pulled into her driveway. She prepared to argue, and he bored holes into her with hard eyes. "No one will even know I'm here." He stroked her arm lightly.

Buffy swallowed as she slowly reached for the door handle. "Speaking of you being here," she laughed weakly, then blurted, " I kinda sorta maybe actually in fact _did_ tell Willow I was going to hang out with you this weekend." She hunched her shoulders, waiting for a verbal onslaught of rage and British curse words she was still learning to associate with swearing.

Spike tilted his head slowly. "Aren't we s'posed to avoid that, Slayer?"

"But they already know! Sort of!" She protested.

"But you said- we said- not to tell anyone about spendin' time together when it wasn't business or comforting related.." He reminded her.

"Hanging out isn't like the ninth deadly sin!" She explained, hands going defensively across her chest, lip going out.

"Eighth." He corrected automatically.

"Eighth what?" She asked curiously.

"Never mind." He rubbed his brow. "So we tell 'em we want to spend time together now? Voluntarily? As in- you an' me, we want to 'hang'?" He clarified in an obnoxious American twang.

She leaned her head back against the seat and wearily looked at her partner. "I know we have stuff that's private. But they know you're going to be involved in whatever comes next, so interprets Giles, analyzer of dreams and guy with too much time on his hands." She gave him an uncertain look. "What- what do you think about saying that? That we want to hang out?"

Spike deliberated for a moment before chuckling. "They won't believe it, you know. We have _nothin'_ in common."

"Not on the outside. But inside..." She reached over and traced his tautly muscled chest slowly.

"You don't think they'd suspect that by hanging out we actually mean hanging off the bed? Or backseat, or edge of the tub, or-"

"I get it, I get it!" She clutched the sides of her head. "Come on. Let's not have this conversation in the driveway." She couldn't have this discussion at all. Everybody might know, everybody might deal, but when she admitted it out loud, started really talking about it... God, what would they think, even if they never said anything?

Spike watched her dart out and inside, opening the house for him. He shook his head. "Stalling. She must be real spooked. She never stalls. Ever."

In a few seconds he pulled the car in, parked, and followed Buffy in the house.

"You want hot sauce in the mac n' cheese again? Did I tell you that was gross?" She asked briskly, marching ahead of him into the kitchen.

"Yes, an' yes, you did." He slammed his arm across the pantry door, blocking her in her tracks. "We're not in the driveway, finish the conversation." He said sharply.

"Don't throw your arms around, Mister." Buffy warned.

"Why? You gonna hit me?" He smiled maliciously.

"Maybe. Maybe I'll-" She stopped suddenly, watching his eyes spout a sudden font of pain when she spoke to him like that. Like the enemy. "No. No, I don't think I'd do that." She whispered, and her shoulders dropped. So did his arm, going around her back instead.

"You stallin' just worries me. 'Cause you don't stall. Ever."

"I had this situation before. Where I told the guys about seeing Angel. That we were friends. That there was nothing else. And- and it was lies, and then things went wrong, it always goes wrong when we lie. Maybe not right away, but eventually..."

"So don't lie." Spike dropped the words like little bombs, not quite realizing the impact they'd have.

"What?" She screeched. "I can't just tell them, can't just tell them like that, like it's no big deal, it's a big, big, _big_ deal!" She yelped, ranting in a sudden panic, clutching his arm.

"I know, I know, but listen. Don't have to lie, you an' me. Not exactly." He smirked. "Look, Luv, you an' I are real good at walkin' this line. Walked it for weeks."

"But it's going to be different now! We're more involved, and-"

"And if you ever let me go one day without havin' a panic or a fit instead of listenin' and thinkin', I will become a vegan an' hug trees." He shook her slightly. "You lied to your mates, 'cause you told 'em you an' Angel were pals. You weren't. We _are_." He let it hang in the air.

Buffy took two deep breaths and nodded slowly. "Okay. But there's more. We're not _just_ friends."

"I know that. That's the part you don't have to tell 'em. Yet. Maybe ever. You don't have a lot in common with Red and Xander, do you? Really, Pet, if you think of it- what keeps you together is you work together, you like 'em- God only knows why, an' you developed some little club over time. Far as I can tell, it revolves around readin' old books, eatin' junk food, an' killin' bad things. I don't mind those things- particularly that last one." He grinned cheekily. "An' " He bent forward and whispered conspiratorially, "we both do like action flicks."

"I like critiquing the fighting style." She confessed.

"So? That's what I like, too." They shared a smile. "I think- before my telly went to the great appliance store in the sky- that I heard they're havin' a Bruce Lee festival this weekend on channel eight."

"I don't wanna sit through more than one kung fu movie." She groaned laughingly. "Maybe not even one."

"I don't either." He bit down lightly on her ear lobe. "But if anyone asks..."

"Spike and I are friends, everyone else was busy this weekend, and he understands how to really tear apart an action flick?" She giggled as his excuse registered.

"Throw in junk food an' you not wantin' to be in the house alone, or me not wantin' to be in the crypt alone after our run in with Captain Idiot, an' we're golden."

"That's all true..." She mused, bucking against him shamelessly._ Damn the vampire senses. He knows what to do with pulse points, oh, God, there go my knees._ Buffy clung to him as he suddenly kissed her ravenously, plowing her into the door with harsh gasps.

"I think-" he shuddered, and paused, lost when she found his bite with her softly scraping teeth. _Curse those slayer genes, she knows just what to do to me. Bloody hell, head rush._ He slammed her into the door again as he lost his balance. "Ohh, Slayer. Buffy..."

"Oh, Baby. I mean- um. What did you think?" She tried to get her reeling senses under control. At least slightly.

"Your friends'd walk through hell for you. Watched 'em walk right up to its doors many, many times. They don't even flinch anymore. You think one little vamp is gonna make 'em leave you?"

"I used to be sure of it." She whispered, sliding down the wall under his weight.

"And now?"

There was a long silence. At least, a quasi-silence, filled with passionate little noises as they sank to the floor, hands groping, mouths colliding. _C'mon. Be brave. You do it all the time. Okay, sometimes I fake it, but I never_ _faked_ anything _with Spike. Just remember what you learned in that dream, what they showed you._ "I think they love me more than that." She finally said with soft serenity.

"If a bad, bad man like me chooses love, Heart, I'm sure the good guys will, too." He reassured.

"I know. You're right. And don't gloat!"

"But I'm evil. I gloat." He said smugly.

"Speaking of bad, bad men, evil men- we should not be getting hot and heavy while we're supposed to be making dinner." She grappled his coat off as she spoke.

"No, no, you're right. I'm corruptin' you." He snapped open her bra with one hand. She arched into him again and he sank his head down into her cleavage, inhaling and sighing in turns. "You smell amazing."

"Thank you." She replied, starry eyed and lost in sensations, being swept away by him, again, as it seemed no location and no situation could defeat the passion they brought to the surface of each other. She briefly wondered if the lustful conditions of the Lowell House had somehow infected them. Then he looked at her. _Nope. Free will lust going on here. God, I could just _eat_ him._ She lunged up and captured his lips, calves going around his.

"An' I thought I was the aggressive one." He chuckled.

"Oh, you are." She giggled. There it was again. That simple stuff. Like Willow said. Before, if a man had hinted she was aggressive, she would have slunk into submissive female overkill, because she didn't want to be a freak. But with Spike- oh, hell yeah, bring on the aggression. After four years of feeling wrong in her own skin, feeling wrong in a suddenly supernaturally strong body, she was finally at peace with herself. Simple. Simply being one's self. _He_ does that for me.

"I love you, Spike. William." She relaxed on the floor and looked up at him with a languorous smile in a glowing, heated face.

Funny how she can make the whole world freeze for you, Spike thought as his smirk was replaced with a gentler, more humble smile. "I love you right back." He nudged his lips to her cheeks, eyelids, and finally lips. He nibbled at her soft tongue and sweet mouth, realizing just how hungry he was, for food, and for her, and he felt suddenly ill. _I _love_ her. What the hell am I doing thinking of her when I'm hungry? You slimy slug of a-_

"Whoa, Tiger, where're we going?" Buffy felt Spike stiffen and recoil from her with a snarl.

"Sorry. Sorry, jus'- you know, you're right. The kitchen is no place for this. All I need is for your mum to ask me why I get all hot an' bothered whenever I'm in her kitchen. Don't think she'd buy the answer that her cocoa gets me hard." He laughed coarsely to mask his growing confusion.

_I'd never, ever hurt her. Would I drink her- well, yeah, some. A bite here, a sip there, she'd never miss it. God, if we could do it when we're in the shower, when she's all hot and soft and wet..._ Spike let out a growl of lust and scooped her up in a tight hug. "Still want you so bloody much though."

"Dinner could be delayed." She flirted.

Spike nodded- then paused. "I need to refill to keep up with you." He covered neatly. _And so I don't blow this all to hell by goin' game face too often. She hasn't minded it once or twice, but now that the chip is gone, best be careful. We're uncharted territory here. Oh, bugger, we're clear out in the edge of the world pre-Columbus territory here. What did those idiots give me that makes me over think everything so damn much?_

"You're right. I plan to make good use of this weekend. Who knows when we'll get so much time to ourselves again." Buffy twirled out of his arms and back to the pantry, this time successfully pulling it open and getting out her boxed dinner. Spike laughed once in agreement and then shuffled off to get the baggage from the car, his own dinner included.

While in the garage, he gave himself a fierce internal warning. _You will not worry about vampin' or bitin' her. You would never have hurt her, chipped or not,- speakin' of recently, of course- even if you wanted to taste her. That's all it would have been, a taste. And if she'd wanted to return the favor- you'd have popped open any vein she fancied. Not that she would, it's just knowing how much you love her, how you'd do anything. And never hurt her. Not in ways she didn't like._

Spike groaned and adjusted the hard bulge in his jeans. There's that fine line between pain and "hurt". A bite- it's just a little pinch before the bliss... the scratches, just little scrapes before it burns so sweetly. Other little pains he might inflict- only precursors to far better things. But hurt her? Never.

With that clear in his mind, he whistled jauntily and swung back into the house, arms full of her boxes and bags, his own grocery sack precariously balanced on top. "Thought you'd have more boxes." He grunted, setting things down.

"I did, today was just the last trip. Oh, and that bag- um. That bag, I thought I might- never mind." She returned to the stove top, stirring a pot of water with a plastic cooking spoon, dimply aware that she had nothing in the pot to stir yet.

"What's in the bag?" Spike asked, unceremoniously unzipping it.

"Hey!" Buffy came over, brandishing her spoon. "Hands off, Buster." She prodded him away from it.

"Frillies." Spike grinned, having already seen a little of the duffle's contents. "No need to be ashamed of havin' those, Luv, they're adorable. Although they rip so soddin' easily." He grumbled.

"Why do you think I packed so many?" She shoved the bag back in his arms. "It's to keep at your place. If you - if you don't think that's weird." _I mentioned keeping stuff at Angel's once. A drawer full of things so I could spend the night sometimes. That was right before he-_

Spike's loud snort broke her sad train of thought. "You're worried about a bag? I'm havin' Clem an' Nate build a human-friendly loo! Hell, Slayer, keep a wardrobe down my way, I don't care."

"I have clothes in there!"

Spike shut his eyes and spoke in a controlled voice. "No, a wardrobe, as in- sod this." He gave up on explaining. "Yes, bring all the clothes you want."

Buffy beamed. "Where am I going to put this stuff? You're crypt is so not storage friendly. Oh, maybe I could get one of those wooden closet things."

"Buffy, haven't you ever, ever cracked a book at that college? All the professors can't be evil scientists, can they? One of 'em had to assign something to read, maybe something that wasn't written in the nineties?" Spike snarled, losing his patience. Buffy tried to look at him innocently, but failed. Her shoulders twitched, and then her mouth, and then she was giggling helplessly. Spike's eyes widened, then narrowed. "You little bitch. You maneuvered that whole thing!"

"Just the last part. Who's the airhead, now, Baby?" She dumped her pasta in the boiling water.

"I . Am. Going. To. Get. You." Spike bit off each word, advancing on her, licking his lips in a feral manner.

"I. Am. Counting. On. It." Buffy nipped off her own utterances, walking to him, surprising him as she twined her arms around his neck.

* * *

><p>"I hadn't counted on it being such a public event." Joyce allowed Giles to take her arm and steer her past the first stunning exhibit of glass sculptures.<p>

"Nor had I. I had to pull a half dozen strings to get us these passes." Giles muttered irritably.

"Well, I'm very grateful." Joyce squeezed his arm and they exchanged a surprised sideways glance which soon changed to a muted pleased grin. "At least we didn't have to pay. Did you see the prices?"

"A five hundred dollar entrance fee seems to be a little steep, I admit. Although these _are_ stunning. Did you notice that one on the far left? _Artemis Attended_? Did it remind-"

"-me of Buffy? Yes. Sadly." Joyce sighed and Giles cursed himself. "Didn't Artemis pledge to remain eternally alone, young and virginal, dedicated to the hunt?"

"Erm. Yes." Giles wished she hadn't drawn those particular comparisons so quickly, he knew where it would lead. Which it did.

" Buffy couldn't just remain young, could she? Not die, but keep hunting?" She turned hopeful eyes to him, like he could make it better. She'd finally stopped regarding him with accusation on her face, after their impromptu supper of last week. Now she looked at him as some sort of walking guidebook, some line of defense against her child's unforgiving fate.

"Would you like that for her?" Giles pressed closer to her in the crush, debating about something. _If you know something will happen, that it is destined, can you change it?_ This was the experiment. Painful, but not fatal. This was the hypothesis tested, meddling with things he knew full well not to meddle with, and yet- well, he'd broken the rules before with favorable outcomes.

"I certainly prefer her to have years and years of life ahead, not- five at the most." Joyce swallowed and her eyes drifted down the stately hallway, again looking at the sculpture of a young, slender girl, concentration on her face, her arm drawn up and back, bow tensed. _Like Buffy must look with one of those stakes or knives. My baby girl. Hunting. Not just deer. Hunting what hunts us. My baby girl..._

"Ah, but to live for years and years- never changing, always fighting... they never told us, the mythologists, if Artemis ever got tired. If she was ever lonesome. She pledged never to marry or consider a suitor."

"Marriage isn't so wonderful." Joyce said calmly, cooly.

_I can't do it. It pushes us along, but it hurts her. I know it does. If it's meant to be, it'll be some other way._ Giles abruptly tugged her elbow and turned her away from the somehow familiar hallway they'd been about to head down. Neither of them had ever been to this place, but Giles believed he had seen it in his dreams. Foggily familiar, he gave it a long look, and then sighed. "You know, perhaps the austerity of the clear glass work is too depressing. The stained glass exhibit should be amazing."

"Oh, Rupert, I didn't mean to - to be one of those sour old divorcées, mad because her ex is dating some young secretary or stewardess. You just always hope your child will do better than you did." She stopped him and smiled up placatingly.

_Yes, and as I consider her mine, I do sincerely hope she's not arsing around as long as I have..._ "I understand completely. Don't worry, Joyce. Buffy is the first s- of her kind," he amended quickly, mindful of other ears, "to do many things. I don't think she'll be alone, and I don't think she's going anywhere anytime soon."

"How do you know?" She challenged, fire in her eyes, wanting to relax, be playful and pleasant as her companion, but she wasn't able to let it all go. Not when she was just realizing exactly what could happen to the only thing in her life. _Buffy thinks _she's_ alone. Well, she's not the only one._

"I _am_ a Watcher. I have- insight. I observe." Giles replied with some of that long-unused suavity. Joyce cracked a small smile. "I promise. If there's anything I can do to give her a long, happy life, I'll do it."

"I know. I do know." Joyce let her fingertips rest on his arm, wondering why such a handsome man, such a debonair man, found her such good company. On the other hand- he wasn't always debonair, at times he was- well, he was peculiar in his own way. Perhaps that was why. Two people, not quite at their best, could form a friendship, just because they were the most likely to understand each other. Like Willow and Xander. And Buffy. Even Spike. She gave a small shudder at the thought. Spike was charming- but decidedly unscrupulous. Buffy might say trust Spike with her life, Joyce might even have grudgingly come to like him lately. Quite a bit, with his sardonic wit and his mood swings from brash and mouthy to quietly amused and reflective. Oddly enough, sometimes he reminded her of Buffy in that respect, both had so much under the surface. She shivered again when she considered her comparison.

"Are you cold?" Giles stared accusingly at the ventilation ducts in the cathedral ceilings, set at glacial temperatures to combat the southern California heat.

"Hm? Oh, no." Joyce forced a broad smile to her face and changed the subject. "They did say there was a silent auction on the ground floor, didn't they?"

"They did. Are you looking for gallery stock?"

"One or two pieces. Especially with the publicity this show attracted. Would you mind terribly if I threw in some business with pleasure?" She hoped that hadn't sounded too flirtatious.

"Not at all. Business like this is a pleasure." He sighed and gazed at the scenery. Joyce laughed and he relaxed even more, particularly as they headed to the sleek brass elevator doors, even further away from the troubling hallway he faintly recognized. _There. Point proven. We're still having a good time, and you can change fate. Slightly. I wonder if you can change it more? I wonder if the dream was supposed to help me prevent the pains I saw, if I can do more than simply spectate and -_

"Joyce? Joyce!"

Giles' musings stopped abruptly as the elevator doors opened and a tall, bleached blonde in a brief black dress stepped out, on the arm of a stocky, sandy haired man. They were stepping past them when the man had turned and exclaimed. "Joyce, it is you!"

"Hank." Joyce said stiffly. "Hello."

"Oh, gosh, hi." Hank leaned forward and then rocked back, deciding a hug wasn't a good idea. His date gave him an arctic stare, confirming that decision. "Tina, this is Joyce, my ex-wife, and this is her-"

"-friend. Rupert Giles." Joyce said hastily, as she cast discreetly frantic looks between the now vacant elevator and the couple in front of her. _Wonderful. Proof that marriage isn't a fairytale, and it wears a size four . And four inch heels... Why did I have to be here with Rupert? Why couldn't I have been here on a real date? In fact, why is Hank here on a date at all? Why did- why did Rupert just put his arm around my waist and make his voice go into the stevedore, Prince Charming tone?_

"Yes, very good friends. After four, gracious- almost five years, together." He laughed lightly and shook Hank's hand, secretly wishing to crush it. "You're one lucky man, Hank Summers."

"Uh. Thanks." Hank appeared uncertain and put off by this statement, looking between Tina and Joyce. What exactly was this British guy referring to? Or who?

"Rupert was one of Buffy's teachers in Sunnydale." Joyce mentioned, breaking the awkward pause and trying not to stare at the girl on her ex's arm.

"Oh, yeah... I heard about what happened to the school at graduation." Hank looked at him sympathetically. "Out of work, or did you pick up something else?"

"I'm still employed. Private tutoring." Giles improvised smoothly, belying his anger. _A graduation you conveniently didn't attend. Well, I suppose that was for the best. But no call. No flowers. Buffy practically had to have Joyce abducted to keep her away, but Hank just conveniently ignores this momentous right of passage. As he had missed her eighteenth birthday. Oh, good Lord, let's not go there, either._ "Buffy is one of my favorite students. _The_ favorite, actually."

"Yeah, she's a great girl." Hank enthused.

"Hank. Melissa and Neil are going to meet us at the front any minute." Tina interrupted softly, but pointedly. She gave him a look and tugged his arm more possessively to her side.

"We should get going as well, Darling." Giles tacked on the term of endearment before he could stop himself. Before Joyce could react, he tightened his verbal noose even further. "Will we be seeing you tomorrow at the official opening?"

Hank flushed and looked in mild disbelief between Joyce and the handsome intellectual. "No. We just- uh- stopped in." He answered haltingly. _Because Tina wanted her girlfriend and her boy toy to see her in her new dress, with her new sugar daddy, at a swanky art museum. Damn. An expensive and boring night for a cheap and boring girl. A mid-life crisis hazard. Of course, the bonus was the fact that you could always go get another girl, younger, prettier._ Although it was kind of a slap in the face when the old love of his life, his college sweetheart, was on the arm of another handsome man, and apparently had been for awhile. And apparently was spending the weekend with him, if they were here tonight, planning to come back tomorrow.

"Good night, then." Joyce smiled less stiffly, secretly enjoying herself. When Hank couldn't talk in simple sentences without getting tongue tied, when he had the slightly flushed, pop-eyed look- he was getting steamed. "Tina, nice to meet you. Hank- call your daughter." She glared briefly before sashaying into the elevator with Giles.

"Yeah. Sure, I'll do that this week." Hank answered, guiltily. Because he wouldn't. He would be in Jamaica with Tina by Sunday night. "You take care now."

"Don't worry. I'll look after them for you." Giles looked at him cooly over the edge of his glasses and pulled Joyce closer as the elevator doors slid closed.

As soon as the doors shut, Joyce hugged him hard and kissed his cheek fervently. "You are _wonderful_."

"Well- I- erm- thank you." He blushed and stammered, hugging her back lightly, afraid to put his hands on her too much.

"You shouldn't have done that!" She exclaimed, still hugging him.

"Oh. In that case, I do apologize." He replied automatically, feeling rather confused.

"I'm glad you did!" She kissed his cheek again, eyes glowing. "You have no idea what it's like, to know he has a different hussy every week, and I- well, I have a mortgage and daughter who's involved in secret societies and in trouble every week." She patted his shoulder gratefully. "How did you know? Just what to do?"

"It just came to me in a flash." He replied evasively, but truthfully. She leaned against him and they rode to the ground floor in companionable silence. "I'm sorry you had that happen. Tonight was supposed to be purely enjoyable."

"Funny enough, Rupert, it's turning out to be." She took his arm again and he smiled as he let out a sudden laugh.

"As long as it all works out." _You can change your actions. You can run. But the events are the same. I knew when we came here, that she'd see Hank. In that hallway, I was sure of it. I knew she'd feel pain, but I knew she'd see me in a new light. That tomorrow, she'll let her guard down, and I will, too. Slowly at first. I thought I could spare her the heartache she associates with him, I thought we could avoid it, outrun it. No, this proves it. We can evade all we want. But it won't matter. We'll all still end up in the same places._

His smile became fixed as he listened to Joyce's musical voice explaining something, he wasn't paying attention, mind elsewhere._ We can't change anything for long._ His hand tightened on hers. _I do wonder how she'll react then. When she finds out about Spike. At least she'll have two wishes come true. Buffy'll live to a respectable age. She'll have a family of her own._ He loosened his tie imperceptibly. _I don't think Joyce'll particularly like the choice of partner, but honestly- it's unavoidable. Best to just concentrate on the good moments for now. Like the feeling of Joyce leaning more and more against me..._

* * *

><p>"You're just being a vindictive little minx and holdin' it against me!" Spike grumped, arms crossed petulantly on the couch.<p>

"I am not! It's just important. You know. To keep up with the news. And get your huge, ugly boots off the coffee table before you get footprints on the art books!" Buffy grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels until she found the news.

"But Bruce Lee was gonna put that guy in the ground!" Spike protested, taking his feet off the table with a thud. "You just can't stand that I beat you."

"You distracted me! You licked your lips right as I was finally getting enough leverage to pin you, you big loser!" Buffy pouted.

"Haven't you ever lost at arm wrestling before?"

"Not in the last five years." She huffed and sat down moodily on his lap. "You know that's not right, right? Me, Slayer, you, vampire. Me win. You go poof."

"No, no, no. You, Buffy, me, Spike. We take turns kickin' each other's asses."

That made her laugh. And that made him smile and kiss her neck. Which led to squirming on his lap, which led to him purring and laying her back, and led to... ohhhh, good, good, goooooood places.

"Hey, Slayer?" His voice was muffled between her breasts, still braless from his earlier ministrations.

"Uh-huh?" Her voice was high and tight as his fingers started pawing at the crotch of the khakis she wore, making her dampness turn into full fledged wetness for the third time in a few hours. And this was getting more urgent. Her body was getting used to sex on demand. Postponing it twice in a couple hours was a major non-happy according to her nether regions.

"If we go upstairs- I'll let you pin me all you like. Wrestlin' is highly- oh, Pet, yes, Pet, right there." He gasped as her thumb found his zip and rubbed it insistently, pressing the rough fabric into his bulge.

"What about wrestling?" She giggled and moaned breathily.

"It's highly encouraged."

"Winner take all?"

"Best six out of ten?" He flaunted his prowess shamelessly, and she laughed.

"Best three out of five, anyway."

"Winner take all. And winner give all." He kissed her with sudden solemnity.

"It's a deal. Spike! Hey!" She found herself scooped up and tossed over his shoulder, hands on her rear.

"Can I help it if you're light and have such a grab-able ass?" He nuzzled his head to her side and shifted her down into his arms, one under her knees, one under her shoulders. "Want me to let you walk?"

"Hm. Nah. I think I could like being a princess for one flight of stairs." They began walking that way, still kissing, when Buffy made an unhappy noise. "Go back. The television."

"I don't wanna watch Bruce Lee anymore. He's got nothin' on you." Spike halted but didn't move back to the living room.

"No, I mean I promised Mom I wouldn't leave appliances on and lights burning all night. She said the electric bill went down a lot while I was away at school and she doesn't want it going back up." Buffy rolled her eyes and swung her legs to the floor. "Two seconds."

Spike stood waiting as his lover hurried to the set, and then paused, fingers loose around the remote. "Slayer?"

"Shh! Oh. Oh, God." Buffy put her hand to her mouth.

"What is it?" Spike eased behind her, hands automatically going to her shoulders as she stared at the screen.

_"- at FEMA says Red Cross volunteers are already on their way to the epicenter zone, unmindful of their own safety. At last count, the death toll was surpassing one thousand . The hardest hit areas are unfortunately around the city's residential district, tragically affecting two grade schools and one university campus. We turn to our reporter on the phone with the local aid workers who-"_

"Turn it off." Spike reached down and gently pressed the button.

"A thousand people. Little kids." Buffy wiped hurriedly at her eyes. "I'm sorry, I know they're doing all they can and it's thousands of miles away, I just- Spike? Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He looked pale, even for him, and he shook his head._ What's wrong with me? I love a good disaster. Death. Carnage. A buffet! And this disaster in particular, it's perfect for me. Frankly, always liked the taste of college students. Dru liked kids, never could enjoy them too much, so shrill. Not to mention, you always got hungry a few hours later._ "I'm fine." He pulled her up. "Let's go get distracted, alright?"

"Sure." Buffy followed him to the edge of the living room, only to have him swing on his heel, and pace the carpet. "Not feeling too distracted by that, honestly. A little weirded out, but not too distracted." She looked at him in confusion.

"No. No, see, we fight the hell beasts. Red Cross and the like, they'd wet their shorts an' get eaten in a second. Gotta let the mortals do some work they can, 'cause God knows no one else can do your job. Plus, it's daylight over there. Or would be. And you're mortal you could get hurt in an could get killed here, too, but you'd have a fightin' chance. As for me, well, yeah, fire bursts out of ruptured pipelines, wooden bits of buildin' fallin' just waitin' to make yours truly into Spike-kabobs." He ran his hands through his slicked back hair and grimaced. "There's not much we can do is there?"

Buffy couldn't reply. She couldn't get her jaw back into its socket. "What?" She finally managed to ask.

"I don't like thinkin' of them trapped in there." Spike looked at her with anxious eyes. "All those little ones."

"WHAT?" This time Buffy had no trouble speaking, she screeched.

"It makes sense, doesn't it? I mean, if you think about it. All those little ones have parents. An' their mums are probably frantic... They - they must be frantic." He sat down, clutching his head. "Slayer... somethin's wrong with me."

Buffy dropped to her knees and met his eyes as they studied the carpet. "Isn't this like your idea of pre-made meals? Dying people, bleeding to death, you just go and-"

"Shut your mouth!" Spike snarled, rearing back. Wide startled eyes, two pairs, locked. "Bloody hell." He gasped.

"What did they put in you?" Buffy suddenly was scrambling back, trembling.

"Nothing!" Spike denied.

"You feel guilty, don't you? Oh, my God, you feel guilty about the people dying, because you have-"

"A fuckin' heart an' nothing more!" Spike was on his feet and angry now. "I do not feel guilty, I feel miserable!" He confessed in a shout. "I hate it."

A sinking dread filled her stomach, a dread she knew she shouldn't feel but did. "What about the people you killed last year, the year before, all the years before?"

"I was hungry! I had to eat! This isn't about them." He waved her off in annoyance. She wasn't getting it. "I'm a vampire. We drink blood an' kill people, end of story."

Buffy's brow creased so hard she thought she felt her skull indent. "So you're crying over earthquake victims you've never met who might live, but you-"

"I'm not crying!" He interrupted vehemently.

"But you feel nothing for the gajillions of people you murdered?" She pressed sarcastically.

"No." Spike shook his head, then his own brow creased. "That doesn't seem right, does it? See? See, I knew they mucked around with me in that dream, they messed with my head."

"Maybe. They took the chip out."

"You did that. Somehow, that's what they said."

"Whatever. But I think they messed around someplace else." Buffy hesitantly came forward and lightly pressed his chest. "You can't have one. You can't." She shook her head.

"No. I can't. Don't say it, don't even think it." Spike growled furiously.

"Maybe it's a conscience."

"No. I always had that. I just love to ignore it." He grinned wickedly for a moment before the worried look fell on his countenance again.

"Well- you've killed people and you don't feel bad about it. This feeling, or whatever you're having, means nothing then. Like, it's good, but it doesn't mean anything's wrong." Buffy twisted her hands and made tight circles on the floor.

"Don't." Spike's voice was positively deadly now. "Don't do that." He commanded, glowering at her as he rose smoothly and came to glare down on her.

"Do what?" She was genuinely lost, looking at him uncomprehendingly.

"Worry. Don't worry. I'm not _him_." He spat out the words like they were bile.

"Who's worried? Not me! Nothing to worry about. You can't have a- a soul, because you don't feel guilt." She said the bothersome word in a rush, locking her mind down around bad memories, of love that was all dependent upon a soul. No luck. Memories like that seep in anyway, no matter what you do. _Angel always felt the guilt. That's what made him so good. So noble. So gone. He can't have a soul. Because then he could lose it, then I'd lose him, or he'll leave, to be redeemed and atoned or anointed or whatever, and I'll- I can't think anymore. It hurts too much._

"First off, you _are_ worried, an' you're bruisin' your own knuckles." He seized her hands and held them fast, shaking them hard as he ground out the words, "I don't care what I have. I don't act like him. Ever. Never have, never will. So give it a rest." He released her hands and they stilled.

"Okay. But I still think I'm right, because you don't have the guilt thing." _We stopped pretending. I don't care. I want to pretend, until it's safe to come out. If I pretend, is it ever going to be safe?_

"Look, Pet, serial killers have souls, yeah? Mass murderers, rapists, child molesters, politicians- some, anyway, they all have souls. They might not feel guilt, but they're human, ergo, souls."

"You're not human. So you can't. Have a- a that thing. Unless they- unless someone cursed you." She whispered. _Sorry, hiding time is cancelled. Let's get this done with._ "Unless the guys in the dream somehow cursed you with a soul. Which means you can lose it." She spoke in a choked hush.

"Luv, if they cursed me, an' you think it's some kinda 'perfect happiness' deal- can you remember I've had this thing, whatever I do or do not have, for days? An' you've made me perfectly happy at least a dozen times since the big slumber party from hell." He felt himself relax slightly as she gave him a wavery smile. "Alright, then. If it is the big s, things don't add up. 'Cause no one cursed me, it isn't goin' away no matter how happy I get, an' I'm pretty bloody thrilled, Heart. An' no, I feel upset about the situation I heard about, but as for the things I did? Don't give a damn."

"Wonderful. They gave you the soul of a sociopath." Buffy ruffled her hair in distraction.

"No... no, no. I wasn't a violent man, I wasn't some cold-blooded killer, no Jack the Ripper, not me. I lived with my mum for God's sake!" Spike confessed.

Buffy bit her lips, snorted as she failed to conceal a giggle, and then held out her hands in apology. "Sorry. No, I know, you were a writer, a poet. A 'man of letters'." She showed off her new vocabulary and made him smile in spite of the situation. "But I don't understand. You never acted like that before."

"I cared about things before!" He cried. Then he added thoughtfully, "Just not too much. Ever. An' usually only if it affected me or Dru personally. An' mums. Always had a soft spot for mothers."

"There are a few other things, too. I know." She stroked his cheek and gave him a knowing look. _Things he never did to me, to anyone, because of what was done to Dru. He never played head games. He never hurt a woman like Angel hurt Dru. As vampires go, he had the worst reputation, but that's what it was. Reputation. What people say, what people think. If they ever knew the William underneath, maybe they'd have looked a little harder. I guess it's the same as slayers. If they ever saw the Buffy underneath... That's how it goes, though. He didn't let anyone get close but Dru. And now, he let me in. I let him in, too._ "It doesn't really matter, I guess." Buffy moved closer to him, chest to chest, looking up at him. "As long as it doesn't change how you feel about me. As long as it doesn't change us."

Spike's mouth popped open, then snapped shut. "You alright?" He asked in open disbelief.

"What, I can't be supportive to the guy I love?"

"No. I mean, no, of course that's not it, Buffy, but- you sure I didn't snap your brain?"

She shrugged. "Hey, I was hanging out with you and I fell for you while all that was stopping you from eating people was a chip. I started to love you while there was no_ possibility_ of a soul. I can't really stop myself now because you're suddenly concerned about people. That ought to make me love you more." She bit her lip.

"You fell for me?" Spike preened and Buffy smacked his arm. "I thought we were playin' nice!"

"Focus, Doofus!" She exclaimed, before bowing her head to his chest and letting his chin rest atop her hair. "I'm so screwed up. You're acting better than ever- and I don't really care. I mean, I approve, please do it, I mondo like it, but-"

"You just love me. For me. Right or wrong, good or bad. Don't know why you're frettin' over that, we've been sayin' that for over a couple weeks." Spike patted her back. "Amazing. Never realized how serious this thing was until you said that. Even a soul- if that's what they gave me, doesn't change how you feel? Isn't that s'posed to be the big ticket item, the anti-evil you're lookin' for?"

"Maybe it hasn't sunk in yet. Maybe we have to prove you have one. But it can't be. When Angel had a soul," she ignored Spike's groan, "he felt the pain and suffering of all his crimes. He wanted to repent. And what the heck do you mean, 'anti-evil I was looking for'? I was so not looking for anything!"

Spike ignored the last comment and focused on the comparison between him and his scum of a grandsire."Yeah, well, I don't got a lot to repent for. Never did anything to be ashamed of. Of course-" Spike's ageless brow wrinkled yet again, "don't think I'd do most of 'em again. Most of 'em. Some of 'em, yeah, I prolly would." He sighed at the ceiling and rolled his eyes up, lowering his lids in fake agony. "No, I s'pose I wouldn't do anything. 'Cause then I'd hurt you. An' that's one thing I stopped wantin' to do." He smirked, and suddenly pinched her rear. "Much."

"I'll let you get away with pinches and occasional arm wrestling victories. Cheater." She hid the last word under a fake sneeze.

"Obviously I'm not squeaky clean, huh?" He chuckled and scooped her back up, putting her a few inches above him, letting her arms wrap around his neck. "I thought you'd react differently, Pet. Sure thought you'd- I dunno. Thought you'd rejoice and cart me off to be admired by the good guys an' taught how to brood."

"No." She whispered hoarsely. "Much as he- much as he's a good person... I don't want that anymore. I don't want you to be anyone but who you are." She gave him worried look. "Because you want that from me, right? You don't want anyone else."

Spike paused, thinking. He had to answer honestly now, now that the chip was out and he was full of new confidence. More confident than ever really, because any vamp with a good day and lucky bite could kill a slayer, but getting them in bed was different. Getting them to look the other way about what you were and what you are, even saying they fell for you- that was triumph, that was skill. Winning here heart- that was bloody unheard of._ Yeah. Doesn't matter. Doesn't change a thing._

He answered with a lopsided smile."I think I've always wanted you."

That was the best thing possible to say, apparently. Buffy's legs swung up around his waist, and her hands crushed the back of his head, bringing their mouths together. "I'm really glad about that."

"We done the heartache, Luv. C'mon. We'll deal with whatever this is. We always seem to do pretty damn good when we put our heads together." He rested their heads together, eye to eye, smiling faintly.

Buffy was surprised at the soft, pleading whisper coming out of her own lips. "I know that. But right now, I'd feel better if we put the rest of us together instead."

* * *

><p>The two lay together, spent, between rounds one and two, Buffy draped on top of his ivory torso, long hair fanned over his chest and down over his arm. His fingers methodically but absently teased pieces of it and curled them into tangled strands.<p>

"Feel better?" He whispered.

"More together." She yawned. "And a heck of a lot more stress free."

"Yeah, three in a row will do that to you."

"Four."

"Oh, I missed one?" He tugged her up by the hair, gently, making their eyes connect so she could see his delighted look.

"You probably just counted it as one big one. The last one." She thought about being embarrassed and blushing- and couldn't manage it. Not with him. _With someone who's such a big punk to everyone else, he lets me see some of it's an act. William makes love behind the big, cocky exterior of Spike's shagging. But the best part is- we're all blended up now. At least in private._

"You don't act too different around the guys." Buffy murmured drowsily.

"Why do we have to talk about them?" Spike groaned, sitting her up, wanting to look at her passion-worn body. "And where the heck did that come from? You were jus' tellin' me what a sex god I was."

"See? Like that!" She crossed her arms triumphantly, only to uncross them when Spike reached up to stroke her swollen nipples, much lavished in the last half hour.

"Like what?" He wasn't following her. It was hard to follow her when she was so responsive to every single touch of his, more than ever tonight. He shamelessly used that to his advantage. He readjusted himself so his semi-stiff cock could press along her open, recently full sheath.

Buffy fought for clarity. It was a losing battle. In her lust filled mind she reverted to primitive language skills. _Sex good. Thinking bad. Thinking too much. No, thinking important, sex wait._ She scooted away from the hardening temptation with a frustrated moan. "Spike, you still act like a jerk. A nice-ish jerk, but still- you're a pain in the ass."

"Now, now, Pet, it shouldn't hurt. Just be a bit uncomfortable the first time." He teased and took advantage of her shift to press his tip to another recently probed area.

"William."

_Bloody hell, she's good._ Spike stopped being difficult, instead holding her waist and looking up at her with sincere concentration in his eyes. "Sorry. I'll listen. Always listen to my girl."

"In my dream, you had something put in your chest. A key. And you said you had to hide it. Remember?"

"I remember you sayin' it. Don't think I was there. Exactly." Spike was beginning to wish the dream, no matter how helpful it had been for them and for her friends, had never occurred. The damn thing kept cropping into every conversation. What's worse- there was bleed through and blurring everywhere. Each dream had been unique to its host- yet, pieces of the dreams seem to have been shared, and everyone seemed to have a walk on bit in each other's little mental productions.

"Whatever the key is- you're supposed to keep it hidden for a little bit longer." Buffy whispered. "So maybe the guilt and stuff will come once you really get used to it, have it a part of you."

Spike rolled his eyes and then covered them with a dramatically thrown forearm. "No. I will not have 'guilt and stuff' for my past life. Death. Whatever. An' don't go puttin' it on me. What the hell good do you do by bein' miserable an' tryin' to make up for your sins? You did 'em! An' not to remind you, Pet, but it's that 'guilt and stuff' that drove Forehead off the atonement deep end. Away from the best thing in the world. No way in hell is that happenin' to me." He finished fiercely, sitting up, pressing them together, legs crossing and locking, hers on top of his, her arms tight on his shoulders. "Stop tryin' to make me into him."

"I'm not!" Buffy hissed, suddenly genuinely angry. "I stopped doing that a long time ago! I prefer you for you, love you for you, simple as that." She was equally fierce.

"So stop sayin' this rubbish!"

"I can't! I'm the Slayer, I'm used to solving supernatural situations, and you have one, okay?" She pushed off of him, and found him coming down atop her, moving into a position so recently left, her on her back, their legs clumsily intertwined.

It put things back in perspective. Buffy swallowed, her anger and upset sliding down as well. Spike's throat twitched and his shoulders shifted.

"You do a good job. This place is still standin' 'cause you have that persistent streak, you ferret things out. Nosy little bint." He kissed her nose lightly, lowering himself down, elbows alongside her slender shoulders.

"It shakes me to think I love you no matter what. I loved you 'bad', and I think I ought to love you more 'good'. But you're not different, and I don't treat you differently. I'm not so worried about you, Spike, I just hope I'm not heading to straight jacket territory." She shivered. "I've been there. I didn't like it."

Spike's eyes snapped wide. "You? When?"

"First time I saw a vampire. I could see them- and other people don't notice them, you know? So they tell you you're crazy. And that you just need rest. No one believes you, because until a person believes they're there, they just don't notice a lot of icky stuff." She shuddered again.

"You deal with a lot, huh, Baby?" It wasn't really a question. It was a gentle acknowledgement, complete with a soft kiss on her head. "I'm not gonna make you go off the rails- but if you do- I'm a damn good nurse. Got references a mile long." He grinned and kissed her head again. They lay in silence for a moment, shifting and recent wet slipperiness leading them to rejoin, a lazy, slow union, more of a rocking and bumping than thrusting and plunging.

"It's nice to know you wouldn't bail on me if I turned into a whacko." Buffy admitted laughingly.

"No one will. We love you. Heart an' soul."

They both gave each other a startled glance. "Willow said we sang that song." _And there was probably more, but she got that panicked look and shut up as soon as she said it..._

"Yeah, but we also were chased around by a waiter with cheese, Heart. Not significant."

Buffy stared at him challengingly. "You said it. You think that's what it is, don't you?" She accused.

"No." He answered firmly. "Because- because you're right. About the guilt. I'd have it. I'm sure. I should be horrified about my past, but I'm not." He shrugged and fell to her chest, biting and nibbling her throat. "Worry a lot about what might happen. What's new. But the old? Not in my control, why beat myself up." He sighed. "See, I don't think that's right, Luv." He let his head drop and shoulders cave, clinging to her and thrusting in her languidly, but there was a difference. He was holding her like he was drowning, like something was pulling at him. "Whatever I felt guilty about in my old days- I already felt guilty about before they mucked around with me. There's only been a couple things I regretted an' I already regretted them, and have done, for years."

Buffy held him close, petting his back lovingly, one hand working to the back of his neck. "You-uh- well- I'll listen, if you want to talk."

"Don't want to." He remembered his mother's face. And how it changed. Because of him. He held her tighter, hugging the nightmare away.

"No problem." She murmured in his ear.

"And that's the problem." Spike let out a deep breath, one he'd taken minutes ago and just hadn't bothered to let go. Buffy arched into him when cool air touched her overheated skin, and they both readjusted, paused, so they could be eye to eye. "I never stopped bein' able to love. I already had a human trait, and I remember a lot about being a human, who I was an' all. William would wet his tweeds if he had done what I've done. This isn't my soul inside, Luv. Not William's. Much as I hate to admit it, there's still plenty of him left inside, an' this doesn't feel familiar at all"

"You would know." Buffy nodded, kissed his forehead and rolled him over, letting herself lay on top, do all the work. Just comfort him. Like he did for her.

They moved together again for long, silent moments, Spike starting to return her slow caresses more and more as he stopped thinking so hard. He took enormous pleasure in watching her move on him. The arch of her spine, the bowing and flexing of that flexible body. All for him. She could be as sweet and innocent, or fiery and aggressive. Both for him. Right now he was quite enjoying watching Ms. Sweet and Innocent exert herself to bring him pleasure. "I'm a lucky man." He sighed in sudden contentment. Buffy beamed.

"There's been way too much thinking lately. Do you feel better now, just _feeling_?" At the end of her query she'd worked the full length of him inside with one swallowing clench of her tight pink tunnel, milking him, writhing on him.

Temporarily unable to talk because of the ecstasy, he finally gaped out, "Like a new man, Heart."

Buffy slowed her attentions as Spike's face went from blissful to suddenly contemplative, eyes opening instead of their usual "fluttering shut in pleasure" look.

"New man. Does that ring any bells to you, or is it just me?"

"Um. Maybe. Yeah, something about you being built brand new, or something was built brand new_ for_ you." Buffy bobbed on him slowly. _ I love this. We talk. We make love. We talk while making love. I don't think Angel said anything but "I love you", "Buffy", and "Are you okay?" Riley said almost the same things, minus the "okay" and a lot of sweet little words I can't really remember. This was way, way better._ She smiled down on him, hands rubbing up and down the ridges of his chest. "Why? Did you just 'get' one of the weird parts of your dream?"

"Yeah. Well, I thought it was nonsense bit of the dream, didn't mention it." _Also didn't _want_ to mention it. Monks, rituals, chips coming out... he told Buffy in more detail than he'd told the Scoobies. But now that things were starting to click..._ "See, they said- I think it went along the lines of 'The key is safe, she'll never find it. Hide it inside a single soul.' But, I thought they meant 'being', y'know. Like y'say 'Oh, that poor soul'."

"But maybe they meant an _actual_ soul?" Buffy stopped moving altogether.

"I wish these clerical types weren't so damn cryptic. Once saw a cursed skull that spoke ancient Greek backwards. And it was a hell of a lot more clear." He sighed.

"Didn't they say anything else?" Buffy pressed, ignoring her whining partner.

"Oh, some rubbish about the man bein' made pure by love so they could put the key in him." He looked uncomfortable.

"Made pure by love?" Buffy flushed proudly. "Mine?"

"No, the Easter Bunny's. Yes, yours!" He swatted her waist lightly and she swatted him back. "Stop interruptin' me, it's hard to remember this bit anyway. I was mainly worried about why the hell I had a body double, why I was back in the labs, an' what your slayer start-up kit might do when she crashed into the room." Buffy pouted and seductively moved against him, wordlessly apologizing. "That counts as a distraction." He grunted as her silken muscles ensnared him.

"Sorry. Want me to get off?" She asked with a naughty grin. Spike grunted again and his hands latched onto her waist in an iron grip. "Okay, okay. I'll sit still until you're done. Drama vamp."

Spike thought about pinching her and starting their delicious, flirtatious teasing all over again, but halted himself. Best to get this conversation done. Bits of it had been plaguing him ever since that night, and he'd just been so happy to have his girl, have them still together, that he'd only begun to put the pieces together now. "This conversation with the robed guys got interrupted by Slayer Number One." He said drily. "But I think the chief priest or whatever said somethin' along the lines of 'He's a miserable old demon, but it's a brand new soul'. Like they whipped one up an' put it in me. Only- in all these years, I never heard anyone bein' able to _make_ a soul."

"No. Nuh-uh." Buffy agreed with his statement, shaking her head. "Can they do that?"

"Maybe it's that old, old magic, like what we got, Dark and Radiant powers. Maybe it's along those lines, anyway, someone who's dealin' with the old mojo we never heard of. We could ask Rupert."

Silence fell. Buffy finally broke it.

"Not yet." She whispered. "I don't want to lie, but unless he asks me, I don't want to tell him. Yet. I think there's a reason they said to keep it hidden in both our dreams. I don't know why, but I don't- I don't want to expose some secret until I'm sure we're not going to get hurt." She concluded quietly.

"Right you are, Luv."

She loved him so much at moments like that. No arguing or second guessing her. He trusted her. Something a lot of people she'd once considered important in her life seemed to need lessons on. "We could research ourselves."

"Keeps up the charade of us havin' somethin' to hang out together for, not just action flicks and junk food." He agreed quickly.

Silence returned. Again, she was the one to end it. "They made a _soul_ for you, to hide something in you."

"Wankers." Spike huffed angrily. "No one ever asks me before they stuff things in. Chips, keys, souls, teeth, pointy wooden objects, fire axes..."

"You brought the last couple on yourself, Babe." Buffy laid down, stretching atop him so he pushed inside at a steep, satisfying angle and she could lay her troubled head to his chest, let them soothe each other. "Whoa. A new soul..."

"It explains the guilty feelings bit. If I don't have my own soul, it's not like it would make me feel remorse for the past. Maybe eventually I'll think on it and think to myself, 'You were a rotten bastard'. An' then I'll think, 'Yeah. Knew that already.' But if it's new, made for me for some reason, it starts affecting me _now_." He frowned and shook his head. "Stupid prats. I was gonna stop killin' anyway, why stick a big ball of soul in my chest?"

"You must have some great big destiny to fulfill." Buffy patted his head facetiously. "Welcome to the 'My fate is sealed and it sucks' club."

"Just as well. I was gettin' out of the Love's Bitch' Club. Don't think either of us need to be that plowed under to stay together. Not this time."

Buffy nodded and laughed. "So ready for that." Spike rolled her over onto her side, scissoring their legs together before scooting her up and rocking solidly and more quickly into her. "Mmm, Baby..."

"Things are gonna are be okay, Slayer. I just might not be so bloodthirsty. You'd like that, right, Pet?"

"I'll miss threatening you to behave." She teased as she nodded slightly.

"I'll always be a devilish vampire, still lots to threaten me for. Just on a less human-hungry note." He grinned. "Wouldn't want you to lose out on your favorite hobby of 'Snark at Spike'. Although, you don't snark. You whine._ I_ snark. You've gotta have flair to snark." He teased back.

"Shut up and kiss me, okay? Is that snarky enough?"

"Close." He kissed her hungrily, a deep, scraping desperate kiss that intensified and moved as their bodies did the same thing. His mouth was everywhere, nipping and suckling, throat, pulse, earlobes, and breasts. Almost worshipfully, almost unbelievingly. _She's changed, this prom queen princess I first saw two years ago, almost three now. Guess I have, too. Thank God. Honestly. Honestly do thank Him, even though He's had it in for me for a century or so. Or I wouldn't have found the real love of my life. My death. My heart- an' hell, guess my 'soul' is wrapped up in her. She's my all. An' I give my all right back to her._

Buffy clung to him as he worked at a faster and faster pace, the bed heaving and complaining under them. His neck was bent and taut, shoulders heaving and legs braced. Animalistic and beautiful and perfect. _How can he have a soul and have that demon in him? How can he be bad but blessed, or cursed, like this? Unless this thing came with a destiny, a redemption mission. Just like Angel. But Angel always seemed so- amazing, so tortured, literally a fallen angel. Spike seems so- human. Ordinary but extraordinary, and so much no one ever got to see. Because I don't look_ up_ to him. I look_ at_ him. That should mean I see what he could do. He could play some huge role in saving the world- if he was home in time for _Passions_, and it came with a carton of cigarettes._

Spike opened his eyes in surprise. His girl was starting to giggle. Shake and giggle, completely not in the moment. "Okay... admit we've tried a lot of things, first time it was good for you, first time it was warm an' livin' for me-"

"Spike!" She bit his jaw softly.

"No, but Luv, we've laughed before- but both of us usually know what the joke is. Well- if I explain it for you..." This time her bite was hard, would leave a bruise, and he hissed.

"I just- I just got this image of you agreeing to go follow your soul's noble destiny and save the world- as long as you were home in time for you soaps and they threw in a box of your precious menthols."

"What the hell are you talking about? My soul doesn't have a 'noble destiny'. If it did, they would have put it someone else, that's for damn certain." He snorted.

Her laughter faded. "You aren't some good guy, some savior waiting to happen. But for the right reasons, Spike- I've seen you do some pretty 'noble' stuff."

"Yeah, alright if you wanna call it that. The right reason for me is love. As in _you_."

She argued. Even in the midst of this really hot sex, she decided she had to argue. Plus- it was kind of nice having someone who didn't get winded. _Well, duh. No wind._ With a petulant frown she protested, "But you don't just go around and give someone a soul unless you want them to do something. Unless you _need_ them to have it."

"Fine. They gave it to me. Mine now." He winked. "I'm not goin' chasin' some big destiny, Slayer. Already there."

"I- I can't be someone's destiny, Spike. I tried that. I _am_ so not good destiny material." He gave her a glare and shook his head before plowing back into her, head on her collarbone. But she wouldn't be dissuaded. "Spike, seriously! I already have a big pain in the butt destiny, too. And it's annoying. You can't think-"

He groaned and grappled with her suddenly, twisting them to their sides so he had her by the small of her back and was able to look at her dead on. "What part of 'I love you, you're my destiny' did you find unromantic and open for discussion?" He growled. "No! No, don't answer that. You keep your soddin' mouth shut an' listen to me for once. Sorry if you think you've got some half-assed reasons, but I'm stickin' to my story. My destiny is bein' with you. Besides, this place is a Hellmouth! We've got enough fate for two around here, oh, Chosen One. You can have me around for back up, alright? I won't get in the way. All the time." He smirked.

Buffy hugged him voraciously, suddenly, making him yelp. "Sorry." She gasped.

He softened and laughed quietly. "No worries."

"No. Big worries." She confessed, looking up at him with wide, moistening eyes. "Sometimes I forget- or I guess maybe I just never learned- what it's like when the guy chooses you over everything else."

Spike hugged her, scooped her up closer, losing some depth of penetration, but not caring, because he was holding her and she obviously needed to be held just then. "You didn't seriously think I'd do what what that mousse-challenged git did? I thought we were pretty bloody clear on not leavin'. That you _never_ leave, unless permission is granted by the lady." He murmured in her ear.

"You didn't have a soul before."

He sighed. "Slayer, don't you think having a soul might make me _more_ sure I'm not goin' anywhere?"

She sniffled slightly, shaking her head. "Not really. Never- thought about it too much." _Just_ remember losing Angel without his soul. Then losing him- even with it...

"Then think about it now now. Before I loved you with all my unbeatin' heart. An' now I love you with all my heart an' all my shiny new soul."

For the first time in a very long time, Buffy felt whole inside. Not just patched up, whole. She moved her mouth to his, pretending it didn't tremble, pretending her eyes didn't just shoot full of estrogen and start to leak. _No matter how little or how much he has, what he gets or gives, or is... someone loves me with all they are._ Unbeknownst to her, at least her conscious self, Buffy echoed the words she and Spike had sung, alone in the world on a dark stage, set in the shadowlands of joined minds.

"I get it, Spike. I do. Heart and soul, I fell in love with you, too."

_To be continued..._


	30. Chapter 30

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's note: WARNING. There is explicit smut, more explicit than I usually write. I'm challenging myself on behalf of one devoted reader who knows my dirty mind could churn out the "good" stuff. Perhaps it's no coincidence that this is chapter XXX. Also- mushy, mushy, mushy, and a little bit disjointed in places. You're all warned up now, so no complaints._

_Dedicated to ginar369- who could write a commentary on my pieces by now. To Sirius 120- you know why you're being thanked. Alexiarrose, DLillith21- who encourages me in all my work as well, micmoc, Illusera, _ _Premise Oh Sum_, _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, to make you think, Babyfaith18, lynbie, suchagleekx, cavemenftw, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Lalabuff, McPastey, sbyamibakura, and rosalea12. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXX

The sun was creeping up on the horizon, making the midnight blue sky start turning a paler shade with golden streaks. It was dark and still in the house on Revello Drive, finally, after what had been a very enthusiastic sounding evening.

Spike sighed in his deep, much needed sleep. Beside him, Buffy squirmed closer, working her head in against his shoulder as they lay against each other, crashed after several hours of talking and love making. She pulled her perfect blanket more closely around her, reveling in its lukewarm, solid feel. In return, Spike nuzzled into his perfect comforter, hot, soft, and pulsing. Both were as at peace and relaxed as either could recall being in the last three years, perhaps longer.

Spike moaned softly and his nostrils twitched as he smiled faintly, smile becoming broader, but still gentle, as he caught whiffs of some delightful scents. In his dreamless sleep, his unconscious mind started forming little messages. _Must be in paradise. Buffy's scent, all over me. In the air itself, for God's sake. More than just her scent, our scent. Sweet, hot musky..._ Spike groaned and bumped his hips involuntarily against her thigh. Thoughts became less complex, more primal. _Heat. Sweat. Sex. Blood. Yes, blood, sweet, hiding blood. Precious girl. The best girl. Best blood, precious blood._

Buffy made a sleeping arch against him as he held her close and began to move in his sleep, changing them from lying their sides to her on her back, him on his front, not quite over her, sprawled half way across his lover. His arm tightened on her waist and held her as if he were afraid she'd disappear.

As she slumbered, Buffy was aware of the now familiar form changing positions, and she let out a muted giggle in her sleep, and slowly lifted one leg to rest it against his. Her mind made a hazy, dream state list and she smiled. _Perfect. Home. Whole. Heart. He's here._ She fell more deeply asleep, secure and peaceful.

Spike's nostrils began to work, twitching slightly, head turning in small nods, like he was trailing something. _There it is. Ah, yes, there it is._ His pale face shifted, hardening, extra ridges forming around his eyes, teeth sliding down. The arm around her waist pulled her nearer, and his head burrowed in, bumping her chin, making her head tilt back, throat bared.

Buffy's eyes flew open in confusion. _Wasps!_ Her eyes darted around in a dazed buzzing, the stinging was gone. _Wasps? Or not. No. No... maybe I dreamt it._ Her eyes began to flutter shut, and she rested her hand lazily on the back of Spike's head.

_There it is. That's the taste. And my girl. Love that girl. She's so sweet, never tasted anything so sweet._ Once Spike had bitten, and took two or three heavy sips, he rocked his head back and down again, no longer biting, instead leaving suckling kisses everywhere, hungry mouth chasing rivulets of blood, lips leaving languorous, dozing kisses all over her throat and jaw. With a deep, chest heaving sigh, he laved his tongue over her wounds and grunted in contentment.

"Mmm? Mmm." Buffy's eyes opened and slowly focused. She was staring at a dark ceiling. Then her ears took over. Slurps and wet kissing sounds. Next was her sense of touch. Soft suckles on her skin, a roving open mouth, a hungry mouth, needing her. "Spike." She breathed out with a soft laugh. _Insatiable. Starting on round four before I even wake up. That just makes me so lucky. Never felt like this, just safe and cozy, and okay- way pleasured. Maybe a little dizzy. Wow, he's good. What a way to wake up. He has a tongue the should probably be patented..._

Buffy murmured his name again, but got no response. She craned her head slightly to see what was so distracting to him that he couldn't even answer her. Getting Spike to shut up was like an act of God, so it had to be pretty serious. She giggled as she realized he was still asleep, and looked so blissful, so relaxed. It took her a moment to realize that he was in his game face, but it was slowly shifting back to human. _Whoa. I didn't even notice right away. I didn't even _care_. Although maybe I should because- oh my God. He bit me. I didn't dream a bee sting, he bit me!_ She bit her own lip in a sudden sickening agony of worry.

_Okay, no panic. Panic is not going to make things okay and-_

"My love. Sweet Slayer, Heart." Spike was muttering in his sleep and inhaling, vamped again, and fiercely dug into her neck.

Buffy's eyes welled up with sudden tears. _No. If he- no, he can't do this to me, he knows my heart is going to break all over again if he starts snacking on people. Even if it's just me and maybe I deserve it since I let him into my life, my body, my heart._

But he didn't resume biting, no attack was made. The insistent pulling on her throat was with his lips, not his teeth. No biting. Sucking, licking, nuzzling, starting that soft purr she sometimes teased him about.

_He didn't hurt me. Okay, there was stinging pain for a second, but hello- Slayer. Getting a little love bite is like bumping my toe. That's what it was, just a love bite._ Her head spun, but she pulled him closer, making little soothing noises._ I don't care what he did. He didn't hurt me. Maybe he didn't even mean to. He's asleep, Buffy, come on! Even in his sleep- he didn't hurt me, and he could have._ The purring sputtered to a stop and turned into a little grunt as his body shifted, his possessive arm now tugging her under him, not just alongside. The nestling at her throat continued, and she watched it awkwardly as best she could, from the corner of her eye, keeping up a steady stream of rationalization.

_He needs to eat. No, no, I know I'm not food. I wonder if it was some kind of sex instinct for vamps? I mean, now he doesn't have the chip, so he can do it, and now we both really trust each other. Love each other. He's relaxed enough to try things, at least when he's asleep. It's not like he's biting me, he's making love to me with his mouth, like he does on other places. He did bite, but it's not like he's still doing it. I'm perfectly fine, and he looks so- happy. Peaceful. Maybe he feels safe. Like I feel safe. Maybe it feels good for him- because- because, oh wow. Oh, wow, it's starting to feel really good for _me. Her insides squeezed and burned as he unwittingly tantalized and stroked her flesh.

Spike's mouth quivered and slavered the slightest bit as the aroma of his girl in heat started to permeate the air. Wet, dripping sex. Dripping him, but mainly dripping from her. He bit softly on her neck again, raising a scraped circle and then milking it with his tongue. He was hard now, and coming awake, realized that his sweet soft living pillow was now under him, now in the perfect place to take her fully.

Buffy gasped as his stiff, turgid rod parted her and pushed in high, moving slowly but firmly. She swallowed and sent another small trickle of blood down from the already closing shallow punctures. Buffy closed her eyes and clenched down, wanting to keep him inside her as long as possible.

The sudden engulfing sensation woke Spike from the sleep that had been getting more and more patchy, turning into a state of alertness. _Makin' love, even in our sleep._ He smiled and watched his slumbering slayer, her eyes closed, head thrown back and-Spike's already cold insides turned to ice. _Bloody, buggering, fucking hell. I bit her! I _bit_ her, an' I didn't ask her, I didn't tell her, I-_ His thoughts shut off, slinking down into a small ball of pain and guilt inside him. _Oh. _That's_ what a soul does._ He closed his eyes in a wince and rained apologetic kisses on her throat. _How could I enjoy something so much and be so upset about it all at once? Dammit. Must be white hat thinking seeping in._

Buffy noticed the kisses on her neck turned from the deep probing variety to small, hesitant ones, light ones. She peered down at him, saw his eyes still closed. The kisses were gentle now, almost timid. That was as un-Spike like as possible.

Another stolen glance up, and their eyes met for the first time since waking. Neither said anything. Spike returned to fervently kissing her, and moved hesitantly inside her as he held on, afraid this was suddenly about to end. Seconds dragged past, and she moved under him, with him, hands tightening on his shoulders. _Why doesn't she do it already? Push me off, stab the stake in my heart, why doesn't she- oh God this'll break her heart, an' I was gonna take such good care of it. Dammit, everything added up, I'm s'posed to be the one for her, the one with her. I can't even say I didn't want to do it when she asks me, can't even say it was 'cause I was asleep. Been wanting this since the second I saw her, and the part that tears it is that she didn't give it to me. I took it. An' who knows, maybe someday, down the line, on some wet, wild night, she would have given it to me... We talked about it a bit here an' there. Hell, if I just hadn't..._

_There's nothing to say, no way to explain it away._ He shot her another fleeting glance before he buried in his head on her chest and whispered, "I love you," in a hoarse, almost choked voice.

Buffy's fingers spasmed once. She felt like someone was guiding her actions, because she admitted she was lost in this particular situation. She subtly tilted her head back, silent invitation to do what he'd been doing, not the biting perhaps, but the after effects. She could still feel traces of wetness, knew the blood wasn't flowing anymore, but there was still just enough on her skin for her to be aware of it.

Spike lowered his lips and kissed the last bit away, not biting again. He wasn't sure if she was testing him, or tempting him, or giving herself to him. He said the only thing he could say. Not what he wanted to say, which was, 'I'd take it all back if it makes us okay.' Instead he repeated himself. "I love you."

Her brain was too tangled to make neat phrases at first. She wanted to tell him she knew it wasn't an attack. She knew it wasn't even feeding. She just didn't know exactly what it was. She wanted to say it felt good, the kissing, and the intimate feeling of him completely letting go with her, so much so that even in their sleep they were still crossing the lines and every boundary they erased kept taking them to scary places, but good ones._ I can't say all that. I don't even think I can _think_ all that. It wasn't done to hurt me or manipulate me, and it wasn't even planned. I think it's genuinely out of love. Weird vampire-y love maybe, but what does that matter? Slayer love isn't so nice and neat, either. Heck, slayer love isn't supposed to even _exist_. Whatever, who cares, doesn't matter the reason._ But she continued to plow through a list. _Maybe it's bonding. Maybe it's him finding restraint after a long time of being forced to behave, or just lash out. I don't have to know, I just have to accept it, 'cause it's him. And boy, do I love him._

Spike didn't breathe any longer, but he was holding whatever air he happened to have in his system at the moment. Two times he'd said 'I love you' and no return. Jesus effin' Christ, that was what had happened with soldier boy. He told her he loved her and she didn't say it back. Spike knew the exact reasoning behind that as well, and he felt his heart starting to splinter.

Just as Spike was about to go into a complete agony of desperation, Buffy's hand slid under his jaw and brought his face from the soft hollow of her shoulder to look at her eye to eye. His tortured face was comforted by her small smile. She answered him simply. "I love you, too."

Spike's relieved, hoarse laugh exploded out of him and he tucked her up in his arms, surging inside her. "Scared me." He admitted.

"Scared me a little, too." She whispered, bucking her pelvis to him to encourage him to do more than just be inside her. He responded instantly.

"In my sleep, it just seemed what I needed to do." He tried to make her see.

"You didn't take very much." She could tell that. She'd lost lots of blood before and she'd lost little bits. She was getting to be an expert on her own fluid levels.

"I just wanted a taste. An' I always did want some, you know that. But I wanted you to give it to me, you know that, too. Not in a crisis, either, but 'cause you thought it was a good idea." He thrust into her and found her sealed wound, giving it artful attention. Her juice immediately sluiced over him, and his head popped up. "Feel nice?" He asked softly.

"Feels amazing, but- but I don't think we're supposed to do that." She held him tight and instinctively mirrored his actions, latching her teeth roughly onto his scar. She felt him expand slightly inside her, the way he did when he was about to release, but he didn't, just drove in harder.

"Sweetheart, we're not supposed to do any of this." He reminded her. "No pressure though. It's not 'cause I wanna hurt you, I swear on everything I ever was or will be, it's not for that."

"I believe you." She whispered, letting her hand work between them, rubbing her swollen nub.

"Lemme." He shook her hand off and dug his finger into the pooling wetness between her legs, using it to smooth his touch over her pretty, eager pearl. "You never been this wet. You must not mind too much. Maybe 'cause you can tell. Tell it means I love you, that I wish I had all of you, heart, soul, even blood." He smirked down on her suddenly. "Blood is life to us dead folks, y'know. Maybe that's why I want a taste of yours. Since you bloody well invaded my life until all I want is you, Slayer."

"Oh God. Oh, God, God, God." She was all tangled up in his words, in good sensations, and she wanted more. "Harder." She nodded, unable to answer more fully at the moment, just give directions. She bit down hard on his bite once again and the same bulging sensation occurred making her head roll back. "Oh God. You really love that, huh?"

"Uh-huh." He rasped. "Vamps are built to take it in the neck I guess."

Buffy looked up at him for a split second, before she did something stupid- at least in her good girl mind, which was heard from less and less lately. She yanked him down and sank her teeth into his skin, not enough to break it, but enough to leave an instant bruise.

Spike roared and vamped. "Slayer!" He shouted out, slamming into her. "Luv, what're you doin'?"

"Bonding?" She offered, wiping his reddened skin. "It gives you something you need, and it doesn't hurt anyone. I- trust you."

Spike grimaced and pushed their foreheads together. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen. Or risen." He sighed grimly.

She went into an equally serious tone, but her body wasn't going to be distracted from its fulfillment this time. "William, come on. Of course I trust. With my life. And- stuff like that." She rolled with him and bucked her hips up high, locking her knees just under his ribcage so he was drawn in to the hilt. "If it makes you feel better- I'd still tell Giles to put a padlock on his liquor cabinet."

"Alright. Point taken." Spike laughed briefly, losing himself in her once again. She'd never been so responsive, and neither had he. Things were just getting better between them, all the time. His smug, cocky side loudly proclaimed that was just how it should be. Only pillocks and unfeeling bastards stopped treating their ladies the right way, let things go south. Things would never get stale either, not when you've always got a battle to fight and a world or city to save (or in his former case, big plots and big prey to hunt). However, his more cautious side warned him not to relax just yet. Too many new players on the field. These dreams, this soul or key, or whatever the hell it was. But he could hold off discussing all that for a few more minutes- he hoped.

"C'mere, you little wildcat." Spike pushed himself up to his knees and lifted her up, a knee over each arm, pulling her up to him. At this angle he was able to drive in more steeply, as well as have an amazing view of the proceedings. He watched soft pink skin turning scarlet from their activity and increased blood flow, wrapping around his member, also turning darker with borrowed blood and heat. "You are the hottest thing, you know that, Slayer?" He remarked in awe.

"Thanks, Baby, but you're tied for first place." She had an awe-inspiring view of him like this, pumping away inside her, muscles all coiled, head thrown back, eyes closed alternating with dark blue orbs burning into her. Not to mention the pile driving stiffness that kept splitting her open. She spasmed and felt herself starting to go over the brink. Her hand wandered down, and Spike's pounding increased, lust filled eyes eagerly drinking in this show.

"That's my girl." Spike encouraged. "You push yourself right over the edge, an' I'll make it last. You start it, I'll ride out your wave." He whispered roughly.

"Do it with me." Buffy held up her hand over her wet patch of curls, motioning for his hand to twine with hers.

Spike dropped one of her legs, propping it against his chest so he could take his newly freed hand and press it over hers. Together, thumbs in unison, they started massaging her clit, bringing her to a hard external climax while he worked on bringing her to a slower burning internal one.

"Love this part..." Spike gave her a wicked grin and waited for her to begin some retort, only to have it swept away.

"You're such a-ah- ahhhh, oh, there it is, there, there, _there_!" Buffy's comment turned into enthusiastic caterwauling, hips locked and arched up. With a final clench and spasm, she rocked up and dragged Spike down on top of her, giving him bruising, mauling kisses. "Love you." She gasped.

"You, too." He grunted out, holding onto his own release with a massive effort. He'd never got his girl so wound up before, so open before. He was going to try to keep it going as long as possible.

Buffy let go of him and rolled onto her side, legs drawn up and shaking a little, sweating and exhausted, but not stopping for long.

"You're soppin'. Never felt you let go like that." Spike breathed against her shoulder, voice dark and sugary, lips working their way over the nape of her neck.

She made a little whimper and Spike pulled her back so he could see her. "You okay, Heart?"

"Never realized how much I could love you." Buffy replied, breathlessly. " Not just- sex." She panted, flushed and eyes sparkling. "Gimme a second. Over wowed." Spike laughed and rubbed her back.

"You take your time. Still be here waitin'." He jutted his moist erection along the soft pad of her bottom.

"I know." She rolled onto her back and sighed, loving that his eyes instantly followed her, and now looked down on her as he propped himself up. Quiet amusement and serious affection wrapped in a crooked smile. She smiled back, eyes going faraway in realization of something long looked for. "You know, it sinks in better now that there's not a crisis or two every day. I'm not used to that. I don't think I've ever had a -relationship last over the summer." She mused softly._ Holy cow. The r-word. Gulp. Good gulp, but still..._ " I thought this thing was going to be whatever we had left, it was whatever substitute we had for the real thing." She explained.

"Fair enough assumption. Seem to recall us sayin' that every night for a month or so." Spike murmured gently, hand caressing her cheek and sliding down her shoulder, rubbing in soothing strokes.

"Yeah, but..._ this_ is the_ real_ thing. I can see it now."

" 'Cause you can trust me? You know something's in me?"

"No. I just- love you. I trust you enough, but- mainly, I just love you. Needle heading rapidly off the love-o-meter actually." _I hate to admit it, but he's right. I sound like a twit sometimes. But I'm a happy twit._ She scooted herself further into his embrace.

Spike nibbled her shoulder contentedly, gratified. Then curious. He had to ask. He also knew it was bloody stupid to ask, but he was one of those types when someone said "Don't poke the bear.", he tended to go up and punch the bear on its nose and insult it as well. So, even going in, he knew he was asking something that he might not like the answer to. "Is it 'cause I've got this soul deal, then?" He was the epitome of indifference. If she said it was- well- honestly he didn't give a damn. Long as he kept her. Who the hell cares why you love, long as you do it, right?

She considered. Self-checked. Honesty online and fully loaded? Yeppers. "No, it's really not." She admitted. "I think it's because I realized I love you as much without one. When I love someone like that, that's new. Never loved someone good or bad, souled or not. It always had to be there, there always had to be some catch, a condition. But I just love you. All of you."

He tried to work up to smug from humbled by that simple statement. Someone loved him without terms and conditions applying. Just love. Only took a blasted century and a half, counting his life and unlife. Smugness wouldn't come. Just grateful relief. "You finally wised up, huh, Slayer? 'Cause that's how love's s'posed to be." He said gruffly.

Buffy elbowed him lightly and smiled inside. _Just when I start thinking I'm the dumb blonde, he starts thinking I'm getting smarter. Love does weird things. Good things...like this._

Spike made a little grunt of surprise when she flipped herself around to face him, stare right in his eyes. The breathing he didn't have sped up, chest set to instant shallow rising and falling, the heartbeat she had for him was singing along as she fixed him with a look of determination. "You love me that way, too. It might drive you crazy that I'm one of the good guys, but you'd love me anyway. You really would. You'd choose me over being the Big Bad because you always choose love." She jabbed him at his collarbone for emphasis, her tone was firm and appraising at the same time.

"Now hold on- no one said I had to give up my title, I just-"

"I mean you'd choose love over being Murderer of the Year because you know that would break my heart. You always do that. You always put love first."

"That's part of bein' love's bitch." He smiled crookedly at her.

"We aren't in that club anymore." Buffy said vehemently, punctuating the declaration with a kiss. "We need a new club. Darn, we need to think of a name."

"Don't get distracted, Luv, I liked the kissin' better. We can think of a name later." Spike locked his arms around her waist and they exchanged a round of soft kisses that were getting harder. He was still raring to go, but he had given her some recovery time and lost a little of the edge. That edge was rapidly reasserting itself.

"Still can't believe it doesn't matter." Spike rasped out at one point. "Thought the good guys always had rules and regulations."

"Probably. But not about love. Not me. Not anymore. Not with you." She burrowed into his arms and rested there suddenly. It's scary letting go of all the preconceived notions you have, all the list of things you think you want and need in your perfect match- and just accept that perfection doesn't exist, and yet- everything is perfectly right. Even if the realization has been creeping on you, the first time you ever admit it gives you a sudden chill. "Big deal time, though." She sighed into his silent chest.

"Me, too, Pet." He let out a small, broken laugh. "First time for me."

Her head shot up. 'What?" She was confused, lost in her own revelations.

"First time someone else loved me back. Y'know. The way I love them. An' frankly, I know I changed, but I don't give a damn. I don't think I changed so you'd love me. I changed 'cause I loved _you_. Knowin' you'd love me even if I hadn't gives me a-" he paused, feeling something long forgotten, trying to define it, "gives me the rush, the glow. Effulgence. Loved at last, just 'cause she loves_ me_."

Buffy smiled, a trembling smile, because she could see the truth- even if she was going to have to look up "effulgence" later. She thought _she'd_ been waiting a long time to feel this way. Spike had been waiting five or six of her life times. "You're the one with the words and knowledge, Spike." She whispered, stroking his face. "But I wanna tell you something." As puzzle pieces fell into place, she shared them, holding him tighter, stroking his cheek with more tenderness as she looked into the soulful blue eyes, eyes that had never lost their soul, somehow. "I do love you, like you love me, and it doesn't depend on a chip or a soul or what you are. It started that way, with all the usual dos and don'ts but they don't survive around here. No, 'cause _we're_ the survivors."

"To survival." He kissed her lips between sentences.

"Amen." She giggled once before resuming her heated, intense look. "You and me aren't perfect, but we fit, and I get it. There's no rule that makes you fit or not. I know that there's something for every part of us. A heart for my heart," she rubbed his chest in a circle, "a guy for my gal, vamp for my slayer, a dark power for my radiant one, a water for my flame... a mate for my soul." She choked up suddenly and just as suddenly let out an embarrassed gasp. "Oh my God, did I really just say something so cliched that-"

Spike's fiery embrace silenced her as he seized her and dragged her under him, drowning her with kisses, pulling her in the undertow of his grasping, digging hands as they sank into her skin. "It's not a cliché when it's true, an' it shouldn't even be a cliché in the first place, Heart. People throw the words around, but it's actually damn rare. You're the only one I can ever say I shared that with, Luv, truly. Soul mates." He said it slowly, marveling. "Maybe not exactly yet, but hey- give it time. It's brand new."

"No- it doesn't need time," Buffy blinked back a sudden brightness in her eyes. "We know that time is short, and you can't waste it, and you always gotta choose love."

With widening eyes Spike watched her lids lower, heard her voice drop into a smoky sweet, barely audible range as she invited, "So choose me already."

* * *

><p><em>This gives entirely new meaning to being the Chosen One.<em> Buffy's mind reeled in hazy sexual frenzy. Spike was doing his utmost to show he chose her. All of her. She felt thoroughly saturated with him, he was inside her, tongue inside her mouth, cock inside her spasming, sluicing tunnel, heart and soul somehow seemed to be poured inside her. Her blood inside him... She knew she was slipping dangerously there, when that thought produced feelings of intimacy, the kind no "average" humans could ever share and she felt pleased, not repulsed. _There really is something for all of me- and there should be something for all of him, too._

_That's what love was s'posed to be like. Dru, last time I think of you when I'm on the job, Poodle, but you were right. I am covered in her. No wonder I tasted like ashes in your barmy visions, Princess, 'cause bloody hell, this one burns. Stings like sunlight, scalds like fire- and it's the best thing I ever felt. This is what I wanted. How I wanted it to be like, pulsing, pounding, flying hearts an' singin' souls. This is who I wanted it to be with, but there are some things you don't see clearly until there's nothin' else left to look at._

Buffy twisted and grunted softly, falling from the bed to the floor, catching herself on hands and knees, letting him come in behind her, grabbing her ribcage roughly. She arched back into him and tossed her sweat soaked hair. She caught a glimpse of him as she flailed her neck, watched him working so furiously, so lost in her. Those dark brows frowning in agonies of concentration, only to be contradicted by the expression of primal bliss on his face. She reached back and he automatically pulled her up, settling her on his length and supporting her as she leaned her head back on his chest.

"Heart." He heaved out against her ear, slamming into her. His hands trailed down the wet satin of her stomach to the sensitive split between her legs. "You're gonna do me in, Precious."

"No way. We always tie." she reminded him breathlessly, her own eyes closing, thanking the powers that looked out for idiots in love that they'd managed to get off the bed before they broke it. When they came this time- she thought it might be pushing it to hope the floor would hold.

"Go harder then. Bet I can take you." He laughed and licked her neck, licking the bite, and watched her writhe. "Feel good, Sweetness?"

"The bite part not so much- the after part... yeah." She admitted.

"I did it in my sleep. I can be gentler, Pet, honest." He soothed, not pushing- well, not pushing much, just reassuring.

She bit her lower lip for a moment before words emerged that her heart must have decided on, 'cause her brain sure knew it was stupid. "I know you can be. Slowly. Someday. M-maybe."

Spike froze and she didn't. There was slick thump and they toppled to the side, balancing on the edge of the disheveled bed. "What'd you just say, Slayer?"

"You heard." She hissed softly. She might have said it, but it scared her.

Spike could tell that. "No. No, no, not a rush, I promise, slow. I get it, Slayer. Someday. Maybe. In the meantime, I get my monthly treat." They exchanged a secretive look, hers flushed and his smug. "Not pushin' my girl. Never pushed you- even when you weren't my girl, when I wasn't your guy."

Just like that the fears dissolved and she beamed, righting herself-sort of. Her sexually exercised muscles were like jelly after this explosive exchange, and they rocked forward and back, catching each other, chuckling softly, kissing where they could reach, her on his knuckles, him on her shoulders and the back of her head.

"Let's finish this show an' I'll make you breakfast, alright? We'll refuel and do it all over."

"Lather, rinse, repeat." She nodded eagerly, slipping back against him as he sank into her.

Only they didn't quite line up. He pressed hard to her tight unexplored passage and she made a gasp that died abruptly. "You're jus' so wet. Slippery." He explained and pushed lower, rocking in and out of her smooth tight pussy again. Silently, his sweetheart nodded, and he felt an idea forming. Was that half gasp a little invitation to do more? Was it a sign of her controlling an outburst of anger, or her surprise that she'd enjoyed it?

His finger found her wetness and slowly trailed her moisture up to her rear, rubbing his finger tip in circles as he took her hard but more slowly, making sure she could feel every thrust, making sure he could, too. Always pushing the envelope, pushing that tight, magically healing body to loosen and accept him deeper and more intimately than ever before. "Nice an' tight, huh, Baby? Fill you up, Luv? Could you fill up a bit more. If you'd like..."

Buffy made an incoherent whimper of pleasure and reached back to tangle her hands in his hair. She knew what he was doing. And she didn't care. Right now, the tighter, the fuller, the better. "Been empty too long." She murmured, hoping he'd understand that somewhat out of place phrase.

"I know. I know." He soothed. "Never be empty again, though, alright, Heart? I won't leave, you know that."

"I do." She did. And it was more motivating than any other aphrodisiac in the world. She jarred out of their steady, hard rhythm for a split second and felt his finger tip scoot into her, no longer circling, now breaching. They gasped as one. His words of weeks ago echoed in her head, making her brazen, making her give into feelings, not thoughts. His words back then were gruff, meant to teach a point of view about what it's really like to be in love, when two people don't know right and wrong anymore, when they just know each other. _They're s'posed to be so close that no part, no act isn't good, isn't -beautiful._

"Easy." He breathed, as much to himself as to her. She nodded and he stroked, just to the first knuckle, making his free hand more insistent on her clitoris and folds, giving her all the pleasure his skilled hands could bring.

"I love you. All of you." She reminded herself as much as informed him. "Maybe- maybe- like a little bit at a time-"

"Shh, Luv. No rush. Why would I rush this? This is the best part, an' I got nowhere to be but with you." He shushed the slight backpedalling in her voice.

"I know that." She relaxed, let go of the air she'd been holding, and Spike slid in further, with another shared, muted exclamation. "I just- maybe we could try..." She trailed off yet again.

"I could try anything in the world for you, Buffy. An' it's all good." He encouraged, not moving. _You don't push. You don't take. Not when she'd give. Stolen waters might be sweetest, but nectar like this was best shared as a treasured gift._ His broken fairytale without the happy ending was finally having something happy in it- and no end in sight. "Don't think so hard Pet. Not right now. Feel an' just tell me. You know we're both pretty good listeners when we want to be." He lipped her ear and held her tighter, rocking his erection into that wet paradise, wondering if there was more to explore today.

"Love all of you." She repeated herself, feeling, leaning back into him, finding that what she'd thought might hurt, just felt different, and definitely full. And full was good after so much empty. "Maybe I'm ready for you to love all of me, too."

"Course." He kept his jubilation concealed. Not to make a big deal- except that it was. She was offering him something out of her comfort zone, and for once, for once, for _once_- he was going to be someone's first at something, and no one was going to steal it from him. "Now?" He probed in a little deeper, seeing if she liked it.

"I don't think it's going to work. Like other parts. But yeah, now." She felt herself blushing and shook it off._ It's Spike. It's Spike, who a.) loves me, b.) has the kama sutra memorized in both the original Sanskrit and English, and c.) was going to take a bullet for me. I don't think he's blushing, because I'm his beautiful lover, and this is something he wants. What's more- this is something I get to give him. _First_. Boy, do we deserve some _good_ firsts together instead of all the crappy ones. Spike's not acting like this is a big thing, don't you act that way either. Just do what you know- feel with him. You're good at that._

Spike, on the other hand, was afraid of giving into feelings completely. Slippery wet with girl juice and remains of last night's passion, yeah, but not enough to make it a smooth ride for her._ I swore not to hurt her. 'Specially these parts. Gonna be careful. Gonna make her feel like she's givin' me the best, most precious thing in the world- some brand new part of herself, just for me. I don't deserve it. But bloody hell, that's never stopped me before..._ "Let's get back on the bed then. So you're comfy."

"I'm comfy!" Buffy protested quickly. If she moved, she might lose her nerve.

"I don't think we're gonna do too much, Pet." He whispered tensely, ignoring the lust cry in favor of the love one.

Buffy's face flamed and she tried to pull away. "Okay." She said stiffly.

"No! No, don't you dare act like that." He held her fast, one arm like a steel seatbelt across her torso, head on her shoulder. "It's our first time tryin' this, want it to be perfect. Slow. No rush. Not too hard- at first." His voice dropped slightly and to his relief, that only made her arch and squirm more pleasurably on him.

"So why the stopping?" She demanded petulantly, pouting up at him, watching his resolve melt, jaw unclench, eyes get all soft._ I'm so good. Melting the Mr. Universe of Jerkdom._

"This part of you is the second sweetest paradise you own, you're lettin' me in, so I wanna do it up right. So you know I don't make stupid mistakes like the other ones did."

"No one ever- I mean- you know you're the only one I've ever done this with." Buffy wriggled on his cock and finger simultaneously, fever mounting in her nether regions. Anticipation and a little strain, and a lot of eagerly nervous lust all flooding her.

"But other ones might not have given you what you needed." He pressed._ In fact we both know they didn't, that's why we're here._

Buffy opened her mouth a few times, then nodded. "True." She mumbled. "So- what do I need then?"

"Time. Me lovin' you." He paused. How do you say this with a straight, sincere face- to _her,_ the Little Miss Priss who was just starting to come round to his way of thinking about love?

"Check and double check." Buffy purred. "Anything else?"

"Lube." He said flatly, face immobile except for one twitchy corner of his eyebrow and lips.

Buffy's eyes widened, her cheeks flooded with dark blushes, and she pulled away from him slowly, this time he was letting her go.

"Sweetheart- listen, we can do some, just it'll get uncomfortable- maybe- can't say, never did this with a hu- never mind, I just-" Spike's voice faded as he watched her crawl forward, eyes following on the pink paradise moving away from him, with the much tighter hidden prize between the sensuously swiveling cheeks. "Uh. Um. Well- we could always..." His hand found the recently bereft shaft and pumped it longingly. "Slayer?" Letting her move away was seeming like a severely daft idea just now.

"It's either in the pink bag or the little box marked 'shampoo, bath stuff, and flip flops'." She said over her shoulder.

Spike stared, blinked, and shook his head. "I know I've said your head's up your arse before, but it isn't really. Couldn't have knocked your brains loose..." He followed her, puzzled.

"You know how we had that talk- a jillion times- about how hard it is to make a slayer feel things? Why you and I are sickeningly perfect in bed together?" She rummaged through a bag haphazardly thrown in the corner of her room, pulling out things she'd brought home during the week from her vacated dorm room.

"Yeah." He agreed slowly.

"It's um- well..." She shook her head and tired again, letting out a tired, irritated breath of air. "I mean, come on, Spike. You know I have guy issues anyway." She pulled out a tiny little bottle of KY and handed it to him. "They just got more physical on top of all the emotional- after the Faith thing, anyway." She confessed, not quite meeting his eye.

Spike swallowed down a lot of remarks directed to the thrice-broken pillock known as Finn and a lot of soft condolences he wanted to give her. Wanted to say he knew how it was, the first few times after the one in your life, the one you're faithful to, slips in between the sheets with someone else. How you try to pretend it's okay, but you feel like you can't let go all the way, wondering if they're thinking of him. Or her, in Buffy's case. Wondering if they're comparing. Wondering if they'll be doing it again.

"Yeah. So. I bought some. I just- dabbed some on before we did stuff. Sometimes. I mean- I didn't tell him. I didn't want him to know- didn't want to keep talking about it. The Faith thing." She swallowed hard.

"When Drusilla-" He swallowed as well, and let it go. "I get it." He whispered, he squeezed her hand. "Sometimes if you can make things a little easier, it's-"

"Easier?" She moved towards him, chest to chest now. He rolled his eyes, but nodded. "But see, this is okay. 'Cause now we can use it together, and it's - it's a happy bottle of easy-making stuff."

"A happy bottle of easy-making stuff?" Spike repeated witheringly, before he laughed and pulled her to him, bundling her up in a sudden bounce, back to the bed. "Sod the soul an' the chip. If I love you when you talk like that- it's the real thing." She punched him- but not hard. "An' that confirms it." She giggled, kissed him, and lay back in the dimness, breathing hitching as she watched him move astride her, the tiny little bottle, the littlest they had, the travel size (she hadn't even known people needed to travel with stuff like that) held in his hand as he seemed to be eyeing her pieces and his.

"Hey, you're the one who says it fits." She quipped to chase away the butterflies.

"It does. Maybe not all of it tonight. But I'm hopin' you'll like it enough to let us keep practicing." He sank down on her, fluidly, one hand popping open the bottle and slicking it all over his crown and shaft. Next, two fingers were sliding between her cheeks so fast and deftly that she wasn't aware of it until she felt the coolness on her.

She realized with a guilty start that maybe that was the real reason she hadn't minded using it, another reason why she hadn't wanted to tell Riley about needing it. It reminded her of cooler fingers, cooler flesh. For a few seconds before Riley would begin to make himself known, she could pretend she was a normal girl- but it wasn't a normal guy touching her. Now it was all working out together, normal and strange, perfectly blending for real this time.

When he moved into position, pushing her legs up high and back, she tensed, and waited for something to happen, something bigger than his finger but still gentle, to push at her. Instead he was back inside her aching, clenching walls, pounding away. "Aren't we supposed to be putting that someplace else?" She reminded him uncertainly.

"Yeah. Soon. Love you, Buffy." He nuzzled her. "Promise it'll be good for my girl. 'Cause if it wouldn't be- I wouldn't do it." He gave her a half-shy, suddenly worried glance. "You'll tell me though, alright? Don't want you to pretend. If I don't convince you today, hell, it's like I said, no one's goin' anywhere. We'll do it bit by bit until I keep my promise."

"You always keep your promises. To me." She tugged his hard, cool cheeks into her with clenched hands. "Probably why I started to trust you, even though you're so 'bad'." She bit his lips as they brushed hers.

"If I remember rightly, you told me I was a bad, bad man- an' in bed that was a good, good thing." He nibbled her chin and cheek as he quoted one of their previous conversations.

"You listened!" She gasped playfully, fingers tightening on his taut ivory skin.

"Always to you." He could feel her tightening around him and bent his head to suck a nipple into his mouth. As she spasmed and peaked he timed his thrusts to let her ride out the wave, and pressed against her lower opening while she was cresting, high on pleasure, limp and relaxed.

"Oh." Buffy made one sharp little exclamation, and didn't have time to say anything more. Spike's mouth was covering hers with insistent, probing kisses, his body wrapping hers up in a cocoon of lukewarm comfort. His shoulders hunched and he brought one arm under her neck and one under her shoulder blades. A soft growl escaped him. Buffy got the message. _Nothing is going to hurt me. Nothing from him._ She twisted her head from under his and let her hands stroke up to his ruffled platinum hair. "Love you." She reassured.

"Yeah?" He let out a puff of her stolen warm air, left from her kiss, and smiled. "You okay?"

"I don't know yet- you can- you know...more?" She could feel the indenting sensation, but nothing pushing past the place where she was tightest.

"You're a slow learner, but I'm gonna get this lesson into you if it dusts me. _Don't rush_." He panted against her skin, and tried to convince his hips that it was good advice.

"Not rushing!" She protested, pouting.

"Ohh. Not the lip..." He was sunk. She licked it, making it shine with a light gloss in the gray pre-daylight of the room. "You play dirty." He sank down on her, moving deeper by default.

"I learned from the worst." She winked and winced at the same time, but held her semi-playful smile in place.

"What're you tryin' to do, make me lose control?" He grunted, pleased with her jesting insult/compliment.

"I- I thought that's what we were supposed to do." She clutched him a little tighter. "Hold still, okay?" She murmured.

"Of course. You feel- amazing." That was as much as he could say through gritted teeth at the moment. "You're so hot there, didn't know it was still as hot."

"Well, you're still big. Really big." She warned him.

"You're stranglin' me in there." He almost winced as well, but it would be a pleasurable twitch. "I'm not jus' big, you're a fuckin' impenetrable fortress, Pet. Unless of course you've got the _key._" His smirk reinstated itself despite the near painful constriction on his cock.

Buffy groaned at his remark, but turned it into a moan as his hand slid between them and started teasing her leaking pussy. "You do feel good." She relaxed and felt the burning sensation a little more fully, like a stretched muscle, only unlike muscles, this one had a thousand erogenous nerve endings trying to soothe the sweet, sinful intrusion.

"I'm glad." He trembled with an effort of remaining still inside her when his pelvis was trying to force itself down and burrow into the tightest, gripping hot silk he'd ever felt.

"Can you move without going in too much more?" Buffy asked, wishing she already knew. Wishing she didn't sound like some naive little virgin.

Spike nodded and pushed back slightly, rocking ever so softly back and forth without withdrawing, just the crown and maybe an inch more. "Tell me if I'm doin' it right for you. Not a mind reader. Always."

"It's good. Tight and tingly but good." She nodded. "Am I- doing it right? No, no don't answer that." She put a hand to her cheek. "Sorry, I seriously should have taken some courses in smooth sexy talk, because I can't do it." She exclaimed.

"You do! God, Luv, you're a hellcat, a seductress, and you keep it under a sweet angel face. That's a rare prize. An' you're all mine." He shifted and found himself slipping in more, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, her hands traveled slowly up her torso to cup her own pert breasts, then one left to make its way down lower. "See? Like that. Holy sweet Christ, I'm not gonna last long if you start-"

"This?" Buffy pushed one finger inside herself and they exchanged a look as they felt each other's motions through the fine membrane. "Oh wow. Oh, big wow!"

"Fuckin' hell." Spike practically cried in sheer pleasure. _She's fingering her hot little peach while I take her tight, virgin backdoor._ "Fuck, this is gonna undo me." He prepared to withdraw, get a break, calm his lust.

"No! No, no!" Buffy held him in place with one steel hand on his shoulder. "Go on. Undo."

"Not yet. Here." Instead of retreating, he laid down softly, slowly on top. That pushed him in deeper and she mewled in a sudden stab of discomfort and then a flutter of muscles as they twisted in their viselike way around him. "Sorry. Sorry, Heart." He breathlessly comforted. "I know, that's a lot. I'm gonna hold still, an' you move when you're ready."

She nodded and they lay in silence, heavy, sweet, soothing silence, with tight hugs, closing out the rest of the world until there was just them, heat, wetness, and the sense of losing and gaining something all at once.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"For?"

"Letting me be the first. For once in a very long life and death." He kissed her gently.

She swallowed a sudden half-sob. Just when she'd been wishing she was the hot slutty sex goddess that knew all the tricks, who never had to ask if she was doing it right. "Thank you. For being my first. I'm glad I won."

_I'm her prize._ His ego swelled to dangerous levels, then shrank down, humbled. _I'm her prize._ "You always win, Buffy. Slayer." He finally murmured.

"I don't know." Their eyes met and locked. "You winning my whole heart is a pretty big win, wouldn't you say?" She traced his mouth with her sweet nectar flavored fingertip.

"No doubt." Spike agreed, sucking her digit into his mouth with slow swipe of his tongue, sucking in those already slightly hollowed cheeks, eyes boring into her.

_A fingertip should not have hidden yummy naughty sensation buttons in it._ Buffy withdrew her fingers and marveled at him. _Everything he does, he does soooo good. A hundred plus years of practice will do that to you, I guess. Everything in bed is amazing. This will be amazing. If I just let it be. And he lets it be._

"You're tensing up your back. That's no good, Pet. We can stop if you- don't feel like it." Spike didn't want to say "if you hurt". Couldn't bring himself to think of the words hurt and himself in conjunction with her.

"I'm done being tense." Buffy sank back into the bed, arms lazily around his shoulders now. He quirked a single eyebrow. "I was thinking-"

"Dangerous." He kissed her brow lightly.

"I was _thinking,_" she continued more firmly, "that every single thing you and your demon lover mind has come up with have been good. Even the stuff that sounded gross- wasn't. Was actually- really, _really_ good." Buffy remembered tasting him, tasting herself, his fingers invading her, his tongue probing scarlet stained flesh- all of it, so erotically charged, waking up every hungry part of her, feeding the woman outside and the slayer within. "So this is going to be, too."

"I told you. But you don't have to speed along 'cause of me, 'cause it's s'posed to be nice an' easy the first go round."

"So? Take me. The way you always take me- making it look nice and easy." She forced her expanded muscles to latch on to him, using her tighter passage the same way she used her pussy muscles. Surprisingly, although it was definitely different, she was already starting to see why this activity could have a place on the bedroom top ten list.

Spike groaned as she milked him, and slid further in. She had no idea what goading him along would do- wake up the deeper, darker side that wanted to passionately thrust and grind until she was limp and he was coating her insides. On the other hand- their somewhat helpful, somewhat annoying habit of never shutting up once they had entered their private domain had left plenty of time for his almost too hot to handle lover to relax and open up for him. "Let's do this, then. Nice an' easy." He pumped his hips slowly, taking in the sight of her contorting features. "Make love. Just with another part, Buffy. I move, you move. Jus' don't push yourself."

"What if I push you, instead?" She gently dug her hands into his alabaster back and pressed. "Oh. Oh, okay, that's probably plenty." She hadn't realized how deep he was going.

"That's just about half, y'know." He chuckled once.

"What? Did you grow overnight?" She gasped and looked down incredulously.

"No, but everything feels twice as big inside such a tight little hole. Such a glorious backside." He kneaded her cheeks and pulled her closer to him. "Let me love it. Love every part of you." He entreated.

The world swam in sensation, and she just nodded. He nodded back and they were off.

* * *

><p>In the next few moments, Spike lost track of time, distance, caution- everything but her hot breath on his ear, her heartbeat thudding steadily, building slowly.<p>

Buffy couldn't think, couldn't make sentences, couldn't describe. She could just focus on something spiraling inside her, pushing just this side of pain, always mellowing back to pleasure on each thrust, until only the pleasure was left.

"Ohhh. Ohh, Spike. Will-iam." Her hitched cry made him look up, find her head tossing sporadically.

"Baby?"

"Deeper." There was something, she could almost feel it, something just up and in a little more, that would trigger the real pleasure, the intense pleasure she'd grown used to lately.

"More lube?"

"No. So wet." She smeared her fingers in her flooded pussy and over her throbbing clit.

"Oh, hell, play with yourself, Luv. You spasm with your puss, and your backdoor... so bloody good."

Buffy nodded, reaching in and steadily sliding two fingers into herself, searching for that little kernel of pleasure she could feel on the other side of the skin, trapped and waiting for Spike to free it.

"You feel it buildin'?" His eyes were lighting up, eager. "It presses your sweet spot- just from the other side, an' not as hard." He angled up and watched her eyes widen.

"It's so close, it's just- not there." She whimpered faintly, thrashing now, bearing down on him. The throbbing high inside was starting to get another helper, the tautness of her opening spread around his thickness. It no longer felt like a stretch, it felt like searing heat, waves of it, hitting the base of her pussy to an inch or so inside her newly opened passage.

"I'll get you there. Jus' hold on a little more, nice an' easy, no rush..." He told himself as much as her. He was leaking his own juice now, pre-cum was mixing with the lubricant inside her.

"No rush, but less easy." She pleaded, fingering herself more forcefully.

He almost teased her, made a comment about what a naughty, randy sex kitten she'd become lately- but that thought was crushed. Buffy'd never teased him during the specially intimate exchanges they'd shared. "Your wish is my command- in here." He clarified.

"Nuh-uh. Everywhere." She managed to banter even though she felt like she was about to lose it, and just beg him to ravage her rear the way he took her front.

Spike must have felt the desperation growing in her, he could certainly feel the pressure increasing on his cock. "What the lady wants, the lady gets..." He kissed her with a flourish and pulled her hips to his own forcefully.

Her wail was encouraging if disjointed in its passion. "Yesss! God, yes, hard! It's good, I swear, just- just be Spike. I love you, just let go, like we always do." She raked her nails over his back and around to his hips.

"Oh, fuck, yes, this is what I wanted to give you. Love you. Love you, gonna make you-"

Her keening cry finished the sentence. Something hot inside her seemed to burst, something that was pushing from the inside and up, deep, hidden spots under her navel and under her pubic bone went into overload.

Spike went into overdrive himself. Two sets of hot, tight muscles were embracing his shaft, the one indirectly trapping down the other, pressing both onto him, and it was too much. And both so virgin tight, healed so firmly each time that he felt like he had no room, that each thrust was an effort to tear away and push back. Each thrust was more tightly bound inside her, each thrust had more friction in it, until-

Buffy didn't know a person could make that sound, or shake so hard, so suddenly, just once, like an internal explosion had just occurred. But they both were doing it, her first, trembling in little aftershocks, and then him, in four huge heaves that seemed to threaten to break him in half.

Then stillness. Heaving bodies, silent, stilling, slowing. "You're bloody incredible." Spike whispered at last, kissing her head as he crashed against it.

"You didn't tell me it was like that." Buffy hugged him hard, like she never wanted to let him move an inch from her.

"I didn't know it was. You're my first in a lot of ways, Luv." He felt her aftershocks on his softening member, and held her extra tight as he rocked slowly.

"Oh. Owwie." Out of the haze of climactic bliss, Buffy could tell she was split open and would probably be sitting gingerly for a little while.

"I got it, I got you." He rocked out this time, and stole a discreet little glance at the mark he'd made on her. Puffy, tight pink flesh now gaped ever so slightly, already closing, her concave stomach quivering after he'd pounded into her those last few moments.

She looked at him with a sudden apprehension. "Is - um- is everything okay?"

"You look beautiful. Always do. But right now, you look extra beautiful, 'cause you look like you're full of me, an' you let me in." It was his turn to look a bit worried. "Little sore, yeah?"

"Maybe a little. Totally would do it again though." She promised quickly.

"It gets easier after each time." He vowed.

She nodded, kissed him, and rolled him gently off, struggling to sit up.

"Ah ah ah, where are you going, pretty peach?" He seized her arm.

"I'm slippery, I'm sticky, my hair looks like I stuck a fork in the wall socket, and there's Spike juice all over me and it's getting on the bed." She tugged free.

"That means it was good." He reclaimed her. "Not to sound like a poofy little priss, but I thought you might want me to do the post- shaggin' cuddle." _I do sound poofy and prissy. But I can't help it. I just took the biggest jewel in the crown and I want to savor it. Plus- she's probably not too comfy and I should tend her. One of the few times she'll ever actually need it._

"I want to go bask in the amazingly hot sex afterglow too." She reminded him with a sudden brush of her brow to his. "Is there some rule that says we can't do it with a bar of soap and a hot shower?"

Spike forced himself to his feet even though his muscles screamed at him for it, and swept her up. "No rule- even if there was, we'd break it, right, Luv?" She nodded at lay limp over his arm, letting her ravished form relax. "Know what's better than a hot shower?"

"What?"

"Hot shower followed by a bubble bath. Good long soak."

"Oooh, Buffy likes."

"Good. You should see the tub Clem found. Old cast iron thing, clawed feet an' all."

"You're kidding." Buffy smiled at him as she toed open the door to the bathroom and he waltzed them through it.

"Honestly." He lightly deposited her on the tile and she immediately turned the shower on.

"Well, I hope the plumbing running to it is a little less ancient." She shivered and stepped eagerly into the hot stream, tugging him along behind.

"I don't think they stole a load of antique pipes." He said drily. _Oh yes, lovely. Bring that up, that the stuff's hot._

Buffy rolled her eyes. Not ideal. Not exactly evil though. And hey- if you just saved the city from being turned into monstroids, couldn't you take a little bit of plumbing stuff as a thank you?

No. Not really. But oddly enough, she couldn't work up a decent lecture. Not to him, and not after they'd just made something so special happen.

Spike misunderstood the silence. "I'm gettin' it so you can have what you need." He lightly touched her shoulders from behind, rubbing lower, going to eventually work his way down and attend her girly parts.

"I know." Her smile was soft as she rapidly turned to him. "I know."

"An' this isn't settin' your moral outrage off?" He prodded.

She shrugged. "Hey, I already said I wouldn't leave you alone in a room full of valuables, but I'd trust you with my life." She held up her hands like a balance and wobbled them for a moment before one shot up high. "I'll take the trusting you with my life option over a couple stolen pipes. Or other things." She winced slightly, wondering how much Spike actually got his hands on from the dump, and how much was stolen goods. _Whoa. I don't care._

"I'd steal you somethin' pretty." Spike winked.

Buffy rolled her eyes, frowned, and then a slow smile seeped across her face. "You know what's weird? I don't mind. I mean- don't steal from old ladies, but if it was from a store or- oh, dear Lord, to quote Giles. What the heck is wrong with me?" Hearing herself condone stealing was different than privately thinking it.

"I dunno. And it's a moot point. You'd never wear anything I gave you. Couldn't really." Spike looked up at the ceiling, then let his gaze drift slowly over to her, finding her eyes furtively meeting his. "Know what else is weird?"

"The way you talk?"

"Har har. An' let's not start down_ that_ path." He looked down at her, hand resting on her back, tangling in wet locks. "No. It's weird- I actually wanna get you a prezzie. An' I wish you could wear it."

"You could- if you want to. I mean- no one has to know that-"

"Nah. I don't know why, but I think I'd want them to know exactly who gave it to you, and exactly who you wear it for. But I can't give you that. An' it's safer for both of us that way. Until things are more settled."

Buffy leaned forward, caressing his chest. "You can give me other things. I can give you things." Her cheeks flushed. "I gave you my heart."

"It's so precious to me. Precious one." He kissed her bosom, lips tracing a heart on the skin.

"We'll keep giving each other the things that count. So many things that I only ever imagined." She wound her arm around his neck. "First times for one thing." She whispered.

"True. And mutual." He regarded her with a somber smile. "You don't know what that meant to me. To share something like that with the woman I love, heart an' soul, an' know she really gets it, never gonna find her heart and soul chasin' off after someone else."

"Can't." She choked up slightly, then coughed. "Willow tells me there's no one else in the world who has what you have. The power inside, the elements that match, the auras that work together."

"Exactly. Now we both are finally gonna have what we've been waiting on. Fit together, hand in glove, key in lock." He laid her head to his chest. "Maybe that's why they let me have it. So we could finally have that thing the poets all dream of. Soul mates."

"Maybe." She held him tighter, letting water wash her clean, letting the heat soothe her rubbery muscles. "You sure changed your attitude from last night, though, Mr. 'I Don't Have A Soul, Shut Up Before I Punch You' guy."

Spike paused before replying, seizing the body wash and spraying a dollop on each of her breasts, then massaging it in with a smirk. "Yeah. About that. Doesn't matter anymore." He said with total indifference.

"Say what? We had a massive freak out less than twelve hours ago, how come it doesn't matter now?" She inquired.

"Because it just doesn't matter, does it? To either of us. Not glad, not mad about it. Think the only thing I care about- an' think you feel the same, is if I'm gonna lose you just after I found you. You don't love me more or less with or without a chip, without a soul- so I don't care more or less." He explained.

She nodded slowly. "I guess you're right." She whispered.

Spike pretended to stagger back. "I'm sorry? Did the almighty Slayer just say I was right about somethin'?"

"Shhh. It's a secret." She pressed a finger to her lips comically.

"Oh. We're good at keepin' those." He winked.

* * *

><p>"Do you think those would look better, or would these?" Anya pointed to two matching end tables.<p>

"I think both of those would look better in the house of someone who can afford them." Xander tugged his girlfriend away from the pricey products and towards the broke high school graduate, minimum wage earning section of the furniture store.

"But- they're pretty. These are dilapidated." Anya explained, eyeing the furnishings.

"Used." He corrected, sitting down on a battered blue armchair. "But comfy."

Anya frowned, then considered. She plopped herself down on his lap. "Maybe I'll just sit on you all the time when we're at home."

Xander's insides did the shimmy. _At home. As in me and Anya. In some tiny little one bedroom we really shouldn't even be thinking about._ "Yeah." He said hoarsely. "Sounds good."

"You're panicking about commitment again." She said long sufferingly. "I know you have to wait to see about the construction wages."

"I'm not panicking." He denied, and he wasn't. He might get wigged, but it wasn't the same as panicking. "I just never did it before." He cleared his throat. Anya nodded, silenced. "Doesn't mean I don't want to. Why do you think we're having a weekend with just you and me, hiding out in Uncle Rory's place while he's in Vegas earning another drunk and disorderly?"

"Because he asked you to house sit and feed his goldfish?"

"Yeah- but-" He floundered momentarily. "No. I didn't tell the guys where we were going, I didn't say 'party at the swingin' singles' condos', I just told you. Because you and me, we're a team. Not like me and Willow, or me and Buffy. You're my girl. And someday-" he swallowed and took her hands, "I'm going to get out of that basement, and when I do, I want you with me. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiled and nodded, much moved.

"Time to move forward. All of us." Xander pictured Willow with her shy and serene Tara, Giles pouring on the charm with Joyce, who was starting to relax more, and Buffy with- Spike. It wasn't a good image, that last one. But hey- when things fit, when someone has the key to your heart, what are you gonna do? You can't choose that. Because if you could, he'd never in a million years pick Anya, an ex-vengeance demon who only happened to be in town because she was answering a scorned lover complaint about_ him_ in the first place. Talk about enemies turning into lovers. _It can happen. It happens around here a lot._

"I don't want to get old, though, even if we 'grow up' and 'move forward'." Anya pouted, rubbing at her mortal flesh as if she could fix it somehow.

Xander had a sudden flashback of the world he'd seen in his dream, a world without the people he loved in it, or a world with the people he loved, and Spike included. It gave him jarring perspective every time he recalled some of those scenes, particularly the one where he saw Anya sprawled dead on the floor of some store he didn't recognize. "Growing old is better than dying young." He said with sudden heat, and stood up, taking her hand determinedly and leading her away from the store, and back out into the spring sunshine. Every second counted, and you'd better not waste it. "Besides, Anya. We're gonna grow old together." _I think I just swallowed my tongue. Or my brain. No, shut up, that's what you want. Maybe not with a big ceremony for awhile, but yes, as you get old and paunchy- you want her right there with you._

Anya flushed and twirled once, not caring if people passing in the parking lot stared. "It sounds good like that." She beamed at him.

"It will be good. Maybe not perfect. But good." He twirled with her, what the heck. There was so much in the world that wasn't perfect. But choosing love made it better._ Buffy deserves that. Spike- not so much, but if Buffy chooses him- I get that. We all choose-_ he smiled at the firebrand laughing beside him, looking at him like he was the only one in the world, _and sometimes the best choices are the weirdest ones. But they're still the best..._

"Come on. Race you to the frozen yogurt place?" Xander posed like a sprinter.

"I'd rather go to the adult novelty store by that bar instead." Anya confessed. "But- a frozen treat would be nice, too." She congratulated herself for being flexible and being willing to do what her boyfriend wanted.

_I have the BEST girlfriend. EVER._ "Nope, Honey. Your idea was so much better."

* * *

><p>"Wow. It looks... better in here." Buffy surveyed the upstairs level of the crypt with as much enthusiasm as she could muster.<p>

"Rome wasn't built in a day." Spike shoved an armchair roughly along side his own and then tamped down the faded oriental rug under it.

"And this place wasn't cleaned up in a week." Buffy wrinkled her nose and put down a plastic bag and her purse on the second chair. _Her_ chair.

"We've been a bit distracted from housekeepin' this week, haven't we?" Spike rose and appraised her. Each night they patrolled, and ended up in his bed. Each day when her mother was at work, she seemed to find an hour to pop over, or his fear of the sun disappeared long enough for him to make his way to her place.

"Yeah, I know." She licked her lips and pressed her legs together involuntarily. Between hanging out with Xander and Anya during the afternoons, seeing Giles to train in the mornings, trying to catch Tara and Willow between their summer classes, and see her mom for dinner, she felt like she had to pounce on every spare second with Spike._ Ooh. Pouncing. He's such a tiger after patrol. Especially if there's a fight. It almost makes me hope for bad guys. Great. I've gone crazy. Crazier._

She shook herself and tried to look stern and disapproving. "I'm hardly here in the day, and _Passions_ is on for one hour. You could have done a little more." She crossed her arms.

Spike scowled. "It's a crypt, Slayer. It's not gonna win any awards unless I gut it. An' then that disturbs the sacred resting places of the dead an' I'd have ghosts. Bloody hate ghosts. They're piss poor gamblers an' they never pick up a round of drinks." He brushed off his hands and jeans and started to re-angle the television.

"You mean you've actually- no. No, we're not having this conversation." Buffy stopped herself and sauntered over to him. "Hi." She grinned up at him, hands behind her back, swaying like a mischievous school girl.

"Hi yourself." He leaned down and kissed her with a smile. He'd never realized how little he'd smiled until he began this relationship with her. Smiling had become automatic. He smiled the instant he saw her, getting hard to conceal, this automatic reflex.

The kiss was getting into that "rip your clothes off" territory, so Buffy reluctantly pushed him off.

"Oi. I was enjoying that." Spike protested.

"Me, too." She panted and took a step out of his range. He moved with her, eyes narrowing. Stalking. Man, she was slipping. She was starting to think that predatory look was sexy on him. Maybe it was, because she was a hunter herself. "Wait, wait!" She giggled as he lunged and she dodged neatly. "We have to go out before we can start getting into the hot naughty lusty portion of the program."

"Sod that. Summer sunlight until at least seven. I can't go out for a bit- and the plumbing is finally hooked up proper." He trapped her in a corner, hands on either side of her slender torso, face inches from hers. "An' it's your turn to pick what's on the menu..."

Buffy sagged against the wall, knees weak, insides clenching. She pulled out all her womanly resolve and stood tall and glared back into the smoldering gaze he was using on her. "We can't. We have to get changed."

"I hope it's that pink frilly number." Spike ran a slow hand across her bust. "Or did we rip that?"

"You ripped it, I was just lying there." Buffy poked him sharply in the chest. He backed up a step and she skittered away.

"You weren't just lying there, you were making that soft little sound. Like a gulp. An' your eyes were so big an' you know how I feel when you do those things. Like a terrible, horrible man if I don't take care of you that second." He caught her from behind and pulled her into his lap as he collapsed into his well worn recliner. "Buy you a new one." He whispered apologetically.

"It's okay." Buffy kissed her lover and friend with a twitching smile. He could go from big bad to repentant suitor in a flash. "But you can't mess up tonight's outfit." She clambered out of his grasp and held up her bag.

"Special?" He sat to attention.

"Majorly cute and on sale." She opened it and held up a short summery sundress, low in the front, high at the thighs, almost backless. It fluttered gauzily as she twirled it for his inspection.

Spike lost visions of corsets and stockings and moodily glared at his favorite little tease. "You show me this frock, why?"

"Because the Bronze is having a Welcome Summer party." She said in a delighted voice.

"Again- you tell me this, why?"

Buffy rolled her eyes and fought down a wave of worry. "So you can come too, doofus."

Spike's jaw popped open and shut. "Me. An' you. At the Bronze?" She nodded. His tone turned more to scoffing that just simple disbelief. " Doin' what, dancin' drinkin' kissin' in the moonlight in front of the townies?" He cried.

She knew it was a stupid plan. She knew they were a secret, probably always would have some part of their relationship be a secret. And that was good, safer, less likely to get her into trouble, less likely to disappoint everyone. Everyone except herself. She hadn't thought that she'd ever love again, and now that she did- it was getting harder not to show that love when they were around each other. "No. No, I guess not." She tossed the dress over the back of the chair with an angry sigh, frustrated at herself for not thinking things through. She didn't want to be out on his arm, proudly showing him off. She just wanted- she didn't know just what exactly. To go someplace together, where all her friends would be, where she wanted to be. Everyone together. Her friends wouldn't have to think of them as a couple maybe, but it might start them down the path to where no one cared if they came and left together, where no one raised an eyebrow if they hung out. "I wasn't thinking." She spat in frustration.

"Whoa now." Spike's voice was quiet. "I was only askin'. 'Cause wouldn't that be a date, Luv? Wouldn't that mean were headin' into muddy waters? Hearts an flowers, the big L in public?"

Buffy nodded, then shook her head. "I was hoping it would just mean that we could go somewhere that had more drink choices than blood and Jack Daniels." She bit her lip. "At least for tonight, that's all I was thinking it had to mean."

He smiled. "Simple as that?"

"Yeah. Simple, like that." She nodded, but the nod stopped abruptly, and was replaced with an exasperated look. "No. No, not simple. Spike- grr. You know what? You're a jerk and a vampire and mostly evil and you have like, nooooo fashion sense at all- and I really, really like hanging out with you." She punched his arm lightly. " It's more than that. I like you. Like a friend. And I love you. So much." Her voice dropped. "You make me so happy, and I don't even care if it's in a sick, wrong, twisted way no one else would ever get, because we don't care! We're in love, and that's something we have had major suckage at. I don't want us to go around with matching outfits and singing love songs, but I'd like to hang out with you, not always in secret, and yes, with my friends, because- because I choose love, and they do too! They don't have to know, they don't have to get it, they just have to put up with the fact that a lot of the time- I- I want you with me."

All ranted out, she looked around in shock. "Wow. Taking repression lessons from Mom again. Spike, I didn't mean to go-" But he was already walking away, towards the lower regions of his home. "Spike?"

"I have a red shirt an' a gray shirt. What goes with that frock of yours?"

Her eyes lit up and she blurted out, "Red."

"Red it is."

"Spike?" Her voice held him back.

"Yeah?"

"Am I being stupid?"

"No more than usual." He turned to her.

"Seriously." She crossed her arms protectively over her chest.

"Seriously? Seriously, what do you want, Slayer?"

_To keep us safe. To never get left again, never have him left again. To not have my friends freak at me. To not get that disappointed look. I want- to be loved by someone who gets every single part of me._

"Buffy?" He moved to her.

"I just want to be with you." She whispered suddenly, reflexively. So simple. Like Willow had said. It's so simple when it's love.

"Then we'll go together." He smiled.

* * *

><p>Around 7:30 a very striking couple came into the Bronze, the man pale and platinum, hair in a riot of ruffles like someone had been raking their fingers through it, the woman tanned and bubbly, smiling in a dark floral dress as her eyes scanned the room for her party.<p>

Her party, hidden in the darkness by the balcony, hastily exchanged a few single bills, all passing to Willow. "You cheated." Xander gave her his buck with a low hiss. "You get roommate privileged information."

"Shh!" Willow tucked the money into her pocket hurriedly. "And I did not cheat!"

"Anyone who looks at them these days would have made that bet." Tara backed up her girlfriend.

"Betting they'd come together was just tacky." Giles checked his watch for the third time in ten minutes.

"Too easy." Anya hadn't made a bet either. Xander squeezed her knee warningly under the table.

"Hi guys." Buffy slid into a chair. "Giles! You came!"

"Only for a little bit. I - erm- promised your mother I'd help her do some inventory tonight. The items she purchased in Los Angeles arrived today." His cheeks flushed faintly.

Buffy swallowed a huge smile and turned it into a crooked half-grin. "Cool."

"So- Undead Junior. Showed up to celebrate the arrival of more sunlight and less stalking the innocent time?" Xander gestured to the "Welcome Summer" banner stretched across the dance floor.

"Spicy buffalo wings. Craving." Spike sneered and sauntered off to order. "Oh." He turned back. "Thanks for the burba weed, Wiccas." He nodded curtly to Willow and Tara.

Buffy sighed and leaned her head on Willow's shoulder. "He's hungry. And- a jerk."

"You don't have to make excuses for people you care about. With us." Anya sipped her soda and looked at Xander over the rim of her glass.

"Being a jerk wasn't an excuse, it's a fact." Buffy rolled her eyes. No one even commented on the "people you care about" line.

"This band is pathetic." Giles huffed to alleviate the sudden quiet. "Willow, Tara, would one of you do me the honor of distracting me from the horrible music by dancing with me instead?"

"I-" Willow began, but Tara usurped her, and surprised all of them by getting to her feet and standing beside the Watcher in silence.

"Lovely." Giles took her hand and led her off, looking as surprised as the others.

Spike came back, blinking at the couple on the dance floor. "Must have spiked his tea." He muttered and put a soda in front of Buffy.

"Thanks." She lightly bumped her head against his shoulder and he leaned his cheek briefly to her hair.

Willow and Xander watched in silence, wide eyed on Xander's part, a knowing smile on Willow's face.

"Hrm." Spike shoved his chair a few inches farther from hers, and Buffy sat up straight. "Give us the salt, Red?" Willow handed it to him.

"Um. Xander, did you hear from the construction people?" Buffy turned all her attention to him with a forced look of interest. The blondes completely ignored each other.

Xander snapped. He slammed his drink down, sloshing illegally purchased beer all over the little table and glared at them both. "For the love of all that's holy or otherwise, just tell us already! You're in love and it's so obvious- and nauseating, but the coy trying to hide it is gonna make me hurl!" He shouted.

"Xander!" Buffy gasped in horror. On stage, the band faltered, and Tara and Giles collided as they both slammed to a halt in mid turn.

"Steady on! An' lower your voice!" Spike hissed and tugged Buffy's hand to his own under the table, feeling the fear flooding off of her.

"I can't take it anymore, it's driving us all nuts and we-" Xander ranted in a less loud voice, still earning himself a few stares from other patrons.

Willow jabbed him and Anya looked at him in astonishment. "You call me blunt? You can never, _ever_ call me that again!" She chided her boyfriend.

Willow shushed them both furiously, and turned empathetic eyes to her best girlfriend. "We didn't want to say anything- you know- like accidentally 'out' you. We decided-" She glared sternly at Xander, "to let _you_ tell _us._"

"What's the trouble?" Giles was hurrying to the table, Tara just ahead, her hands reaching for Willow.

Buffy ignored her father figure and let out a mortified squeak. "So for days- or- or weeks- you've known?"

Tara took over for Willow, who seemed to be struggling for accuracy and kindness at the same time. "Kind of. A l-little."

Anya didn't mince words. "Yes. We knew. For what? Two weeks, or three?" She asked the table.

"Oh, before." Giles murmured.

"Like, last month or maybe the one before? At least we started to get the idea." Willow conferred with Tara who nodded.

Buffy moaned and put her head on the table with a despairing cry, which turned into a cry of annoyance as her hair landed in Xander's sloshed beer.

Spike hauled her up. "You're all okay with this idea? Jus' sayin' if it were true, not that it is." He amended swiftly.

Willow and Tara nodded, Anya grinned, and Giles sighed long sufferingly, also managing a single nod. Once again, it was Xander who couldn't restrain himself. But then again, he was the only who'd seen what life sans Spike entailed. The death of everything and everyone he counted important. His Anya. His Buff, his Willow, all damaged and destroyed, literally or figuratively dead. He burst out vehemently, if still sounding a little sick, "You have no idea how okay with this I am." He twitched his shoulders as if he could shake out the horrid images locked in his brain.

"Xander- you- but you hate-" Buffy began and Spike pinched her thigh hard to shush her.

"Yeah, well, I hate lima beans too, but apparently they make you big and strong and live a long healthy life, so - so my hate factor is irrelevant."

"Did he just compare Spike to eating his vegetables?" Tara mumbled to her girlfriend who nodded, no longer phased by Xander-isms.

Xander ignored the commentary on his outburst. He gave Buffy an impulsive shove, sending her careening into a startled Spike. "Just- make with the being in love already."

Buffy looked up at Spike in shock. He shrugged and awkwardly put his arm around her shoulder.

"You can do more than that." Willow nodded at him with a stage whisper. "We already know. About stuff." Her cheeks turned dark pink.

"You heard the woman." Spike looked questioningly at Buffy, who was still in shock. "Slayer?"

"Huh?" She blinked myopically at him.

"Give us a kiss, Pet." He winked and invited softly. She got a deer in the headlights look, and Spike tilted his brow to hers. "Gonna leave a fella hangin'?"

Buffy seemed to wake up, and suddenly darted up and kissed his cheek.

"Bloody hell, not like that." Spike knew it was a risk, but he didn't care. He yanked her closer and kissed her on the lips, hard, for several seconds, before returning her to her bar stool. "There, satisfied?" He demanded to the table.

"Awwww!" Chorused Anya, Willow, and Tara. Xander looked like he might barf and Giles had a curiously blank expression on his face.

"Need air now." Buffy finally managed to croak. With a shake of his head, Spike hauled her off to the open floor, leaving her pals staring after them. "What the hell just happened?" She hissed.

"What's his face dove off the deep end. Damn. All of 'em are smarter than I thought." He admitted grudgingly. Then brightened. "Oi, that means I'm not such a failure in the villainy department after all! Next round's on me."

Buffy didn't comment on that aspect of her friends' reactions, just seemed in shock and awe. "They- they didn't hate me. They didn't even care that you are- you know, what you are. They don't even _know_ what you are now..."

Spike looked around furtively. "Maybe if you did tell 'em about the shiny new clockworks I've got they wouldn't mind so much. Not that they mind terribly right now."

She shook her head vehemently, eyes focusing. Telling was not an option lives depended on keeping this a secret, that was her dream-given instinct. Of course- she didn't know if that meant keeping it a secret from all her friends who she felt she could trust in an emergency, or just from some unknown person to be determined later. None of that mattered though, if it was an unnecessary risk, she didn't want to take it. "No! The dreams say to hide it."

"But you can't hide something like that forever, not around here, not when it was prolly given to me for some big 'reason'." He said sourly.

"Then we'll tell Giles. We'll tell him about the chip and the- the other thing." She swayed in his arms, whispering, no longer as worried about the eyes on her. "We'll tell him it needed to happen. That the dreams told us. And- and why. About how you had to be able to fight back to save me from Psycho Ex."

"Not true. You're the one who went Rambo Barbie and almost blew his brains out. You saved _me_."

She smiled. "We save each other, Spike."

The vampire's beatific smile was visible all the way across the floor, and their heads met. She snuggled closer, lips almost touching.

"Happy, Lover?" She mouthed.

"Be even happier if you say something to me." He hinted.

"I love you." She smiled.

"Love you."

"So, happy now?"

"They don't make words for how happy I am. How happy I'm gonna make you. You're gonna see, things are gonna be amazing-"

Buffy shushed him. "If they don't make words- why are you still talking? Shut up and kiss me."

Spike obliged, thoroughly. He bent her back and plundered her mouth briefly before swinging her up, still swaying. Somewhere in the balcony, whistles and cat calls praised the display. They ignored them. "You're a bossy little bitch." He snarled softly.

"You know you love it." She preened.

"I love _you_- not that." He disagreed.

"I love you, too, Baby." She gave him a brief pout before smiling. Inside, in spite of a lot of new worries, things not made clear, and a lot of things no one probably would ever fully make clear- she was happier and more at peace than she would have thought possible.

The song ended, and Buffy saw Xander being tugged to the floor by Anya. "May I cut in?" She asked her best friend and his girl.

"C'mon, Demon Gal. You never did finish tellin' me about that banker in Singapore in the 30's. What was it? Exploding sinuses?" Spike took Anya's hand and they swapped partners.

"Oh! That's a good story. Only he wasn't a banker, he was a baker, and it was the 1830s. Anyway- his wife caught him with the girl who brought in the delivery carts every day and-"

Buffy and Xander exchanged a look as they stepped to the side. "We like weirdos." Buffy said gravely.

"You speak the truth, my friend." Xander sighed.

"You're not freaking at me." Buffy said after they moved in silence for a moment.

"Can't. You- for God only knows what sick and twisted reasons- like him and he wants to be the guy for you. But if he hurts you, I'll kill him. A lot." Xander assured grimly.

"Thanks, Big Brother." Buffy pecked his cheek.

"Hey, least I can do. And it's kinda one of my fantasies." He gave her a cheesy smile. Buffy laughed and fell against his chest with a grateful sigh.

"Seriously. Thank you. Thank you for helping me be okay with this. I don't get all of it either, but I know it's what I need." She looked up at him with glistening eyes.

Xander swallowed. "You never said a word when I started seeing Anya."

"Didn't I?"

"Not a bad one." He shrugged. "Look- I don't like him. But I get that sometimes you can love someone and they can love you, and they can be important in your life. But let's get this straight right now, young lady. There are a couple conditions." He told her fiercely. Buffy suppressed a smile and nodded soberly.

"One. I am always the go to guy, best friend, big brother, high school buddy person. No one else takes my place or I'm gonna throw a hissy fit."

"Done. Slayer's honor." She saluted and then mimed staking something. He laughed once, and then became all serious again, almost apprehensive.

"Two. I know you thanked me for pulling the cat out of the bag and helping you be 'okay' with your strange Spike sickness-" Buffy stepped on his foot here, and he quickly rerouted his conversation. "I mean- I know you thanked me for helping you get to the okay stage with us Scoobies and including the chipped puppy. But- don't thank me. Please. Don't even mention it. Seriously. Like- ever."

Spike spun Anya free and reclaimed Buffy with one deft switch. He had overheard everything with his super sensory hearing and being just a few feet away. He regarded Xander with a smug smirk. "Don't worry. We won't."

As the reunited couples danced, Spike gave Xander a brief nod over Buffy's shoulder. Xander sighed- and finally gave him the thumbs up. Then both turned away and pretended it had never happened. They were happier that way.

_To be concluded..._


	31. Chapter 31

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Author's note: Tonic's "If You Could Only See" lyrics are used throughout this chapter. May I suggest listening to it as you read, beginning when the lyrics are introduced? At least listen through once. I think it works together rather well..._

_Dedicated to ginar369, Sirius120, Alexiarrose, DLillith21, Medusamylove, micmoc, Illusera, Inazea, Starsape91_, _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, to make you think, Babyfaith18, lynbie, embers and flame, suchagleekx, cavemenftw, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, Lalabuff, McPastey, babe ruthless, and rosalea12. _

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

Part XXXI

"Thought you'd never dance with me." Spike murmured to the girl he was swaying with.

"I already did. Giles sang. We danced. I'm keeping my promise- 'cause we do that for for each other. I promised I wouldn't let it be our last dance." Buffy replied, semi-relaxed, almost foggy sounding in the low-lighting of the Bronze.

"Two lost souls..." Spike squinted in a hazy sense of deja vu, vaguely remembering words, and feeling like he was watching a memory from someone else's head. He was. "Damn dreams."

"I wonder if Giles was really there. I keep wondering how much any of us were really in each other's dreams. I don't _know_ any of the stuff from Xander or Willow or anyone's dreams- but then when someone says it- I feel like I have one of those 'oh, yeah, I remember that' moments." She lifted her head and looked up at him. "You get that?"

"Yes. We were still connected up, somehow. But fading out of togetherness." Spike cocked his head and scanned the room behind them. The group of slayerettes was scattered about, some dancing, some talking. "Wonder just what they saw. Or was it all in the way we acted?"

"Some of each." Buffy felt a prickling of discomfort running up her spine. "But I'm pretty sure they missed out on a couple big pieces. Chips. Keys." She hissed.

"They got the one big piece, Slayer. Love. The rest-" he stopped in mid stride, pressing her indecently close, "doesn't really matter."

She wanted to argue. Except she'd already decided that herself. "Really doesn't." She squirmed into his touch. "One more dance- not our last dance, just one more until the next time. Then we'll go home."

* * *

><p><em>If you could only see the way she loves me<em>

_Then maybe you would understand_

_Why I feel this way about our love_

_And what I must do_

* * *

><p>"Why did you go all grown up and do the hard thing? Not that I didn't think you could do it, I just- didn't think you do it tonight. Or so- um-<em>loudly<em>. " Willow leaned on Xander's shoulder as they ate fries out of the basket between them. Their eyes were riveted to the pair on the dance floor, the pair moving slowly, not so much dancing as looking into each other's eyes and tenderly pawing at each other.

"I had to." Xander answered automatically, eyes unblinking.

"Why?" Willow turned her head to capture his gaze.

He saw a black veined face and black beetle eyes for a second before they were replaced by the strawberry flushed skin with its complement of sparkling green emeralds under the bangs. Relieved at the reality he was still in, apparently courtesy of Spike, he answered, "Because I love all of you. Too much to lose any of you."

"Lose us?" Willow shook her head uncomprehendingly.

"Can't explain it." _Don't want to. Better try, though. It's Willow. She has methods of torture no one else can understand. The crayon story..._ "We all have someone to love. She needs it, too. Or else- well, you see what a slayer can turn into, if you take all the Buffy out of the girl and leave just the killing machine." He patted her arm and rose as Anya and Giles returned from the dance floor, apparently not wanting to dance to the slow ballad.

Willow watched her best friend reclaim his partner and made room for Giles as she waited for Tara to return from the restroom. Like Xander, like herself, the Watcher seemed to have eyes for just one thing.

"You don't seem overly freaked. Or with the lecturing." Willow joined him in watching the slow moving couple.

"I don't see a reason to." Giles finished his drink and patted her hand absently.

That made Willow dart a surprised glance to him. "You think it's okay? I mean- I can't judge. Tara and I- we're not so average ourselves. Oz was a werewolf. Tara's something special. And I wouldn't care. Even if she was- if she was part demon. If she was all demon." Her voice came out in a hush. "As long as she was Tara. But Spike-"

"Willow, dear." Giles removed his glasses and peered into her eyes patiently. "Why do you think it's allowable?"

"Because they love each other." She whispered. "I think it's real."

Giles stood up and pressed an impulsive kiss to her pale brow. "I know. I think it is, too." Willow took his hand as it passed over her shoulder and let him go with a squeeze. "All of you. All of us." He continued, murmuring his last phrase to her with a slight emphasis. "I_ know_ it's real."

* * *

><p>Tara's graceful figure slunk unnoticeably past other patrons, a trick of being there but not being seen she'd long ago mastered around her tyrannical family. She glided silently to the table, where Willow was sitting alone. "Hi, Sweetie. Where did-" Her words were cut off with a sudden, impulsive kiss as Willow rose and embraced her. "Wow." Tara blushed and looked around anxiously. "Um. Willow, maybe we should wait until -"<p>

"I love you." Green eyes were burning into her. "That makes it okay. Right?"

Tara's eyes seemed to expand, pale blue seeming to gain depth, shades and layers blooming as an unfamiliar feeling washed over her. _I'm safe. I belong here. Not just with Willow, I belong here, in this place, with these people. Even- even doing things that terrify me, not just magic, not just the monsters. The world and the people don't seem so scary anymore. I danced with Giles. I talked to Anya and Xander. All of them, even Spike, who doesn't really get along with anyone, they all wanted me with them tonight. But most of all- Willow wants me with her. She loves me. Openly. Knowing what I am- even _not_ knowing what I was for sure._

"Baby?" Willow's formerly bold voice became more timid. Sure, they'd never been very open with their physical displays of affection. They were both kind of shy. Plus- even as cool as everyone was about the girl dating a girl thing- sometimes it attracted attention, and Willow didn't want to be the object of_ that_ kind of attention. Didn't want Tara to deal with that either. But- but if Buffy and Spike- who were totally going against every norm in the world- could smooch on the dance floor, she'd thought maybe she could be brave as well. But Tara didn't seem so certain. "I... I'm sorry, I just got-"

"More perfect than ever?" Tara said breathlessly, eyes turning hypnotic. "Everything _is_ all right." She moved slowly, cupping her lover's cheek, entrancing her with such loving eyes.

_If you could only see how blue_

_Her eyes can be when she says_

_When she says she loves me_

"Tara." Willow breathed out as their lips brushed softly, then more intently.

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p>"Do we hafta wait for this song to be over?" Spike asked the question in a whisky rasp against her ear. "I can dance with you all night at home."<p>

"We haven't even been here an hour." She protested, wanting to agree instead.

"I think we've welcomed summer plenty. Let's go out an' live it. Before the next disaster strikes us all."

"Thank you, Mr. Optimism." She frowned and huffed at him.

"Oi. I love disaster. The only thing hotter than dancin' with you is watchin' you brawl." HIs tongue rolled behind his teeth and then flicked forward, catching her skin and savoring it. "And the only thing hotter than that is watchin' you brawl with me...in private, Slayer." The voice turned from a husk to a rumbling, dark purr.

Buffy's center went into liquid mode. "You make even the bad things seem better." She whispered. "But the guys are-"

"Otherwise engaged." Spike nodded to a dimly lit corner where Willow and Tara were dancing, lip locked, chastely compared to many other couples, but pretty racy for those two.

"Whoa." Buffy blinked and looked startled.

"Good for them." Spike murmured.

"You're an old softy."

"Am not!"

_Well you got your reasons_

_And you got your lies_

"Spike. Don't argue. Being a softy is working in your favor right now." Buffy's slow steps started leading them backwards, towards the table, to their things, and then, towards the door.

_And you got your manipulations_

_They cut me down to size_

"You always could see through me."

"Not always. But for longer than you wanna admit." Her lips danced against his cool jawbone as she confided, "you always saw right through everyone else, though. You see the real me. I love that about you."

* * *

><p><em>Sayin' you love but you don't<em>

_You give your love but you won't_

Angel paused in the shadows of the doorway. He'd left it alone. He'd thought, as he had so often thought, that leaving would just be the best thing to do. Give her time, let her realize they had no future together. And more importantly, let her realize she and Spike had no future together, either. She'd keep it a game they'd played, a sick period of a few weeks in her life that she learned from and never spoke of again.

And now, he couldn't take it anymore. He'd settled his battles and LA was still standing- at least for the night. He had a light at the end of the tunnel. Humanity could be won if he atoned enough. That was the Shanshu prophecy, that was why he was right, and Buffy was wrong. The scroll Wesley interpreted for him revealed his reasoning was sound. The reward wasn't love, the reward was forgiveness, being given a second chance. Still- when he got that reward, maybe Buffy would understand. Then maybe they could-

However, the rest of that thought refused to come out of his brain now that he was watching her. Now that he could see them together.

_If you could only see the way she loves me_

His heart ripped and ached, but he was used to that feeling. What he wasn't used to was seeing her- happy. Seeing Spike relaxed. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't, like watching some horrible accident unfolding in front of him. He swallowed and choked down a pained noise of grief and rage.

_Then maybe you would understand_

"He can't love her. He never-"

"Get out right now, or so help me God, you're going to fit in a ziplock baggie." Xander snarled sotto voce at the larger male, suddenly at his side.

"What? Oh, I'm not evil." Angel hissed and whirled in surprise to confront a couple of teenagers, Xander and the other girl- Anya, he thought it was.

"Great. You still better leave before she sees you." Xander tugged his arm and pushed him toward the entrance.

"But- but she's with-" Angel twisted and yet found that the boy's grip wasn't broken.

"She's with Spike. We know that. He loves her, she loves him." Anya assisted and grabbed his other arm, whispering furiously. "And we did a lot of work to get them to stop hiding it and you better not mess it up!"

"Spike can't love anyone, he's pure evil, he-"

"Loves her. She loves him. You know, I don't really like it either," Xander grunted and finally managed to get Angel outside the entryway, but forced his head to turn so he could still see the couple in question, "but can you argue with _that_?"

Angel ceased his struggle and watched Spike and Buffy collecting items from their table, watching the way his fingertips never seemed to leave her skin, how his eyes never left her face. _She's the only thing in the world to him._ He'd seen some pale version of that look when the besotted boy worshipfully watched Drusilla. This look, so intent, so unshakable, was like a wildfire's flame compared to a single sputtering match.

"Even if he does-" He tried to protest, but his unlikely assailant wouldn't let him continue.

"She does, too, it's not just a one sided obsession." Xander said grimly. "Think about what she's risking. It's almost as bad a what she risked for you, and, yeah, I mean _almost_. She wouldn't do that, if she didn't love him. And if he wasn't- in some horrible, perverted way- worth it."

The vampire swallowed again, watching her this time, not her partner. He'd thought that smile was only for him. Looking closely though, it wasn't the same smile. It wasn't- it almost wasn't the same girl. Buffy was wild and sweet and innocent. This woman- that's what's different, she looks more like a woman now. She can't be that much older, but maybe there's something more knowing about her. _She doesn't look at Spike with big, soulful eyes. She looks at him like she's happy to see him. Like she loves him, but it's not the same kind of look she ever gave me. There's no _questioning_ in it. She's not waiting to see what he does. She already knows what's coming. No, she could never trust him, not more than she trusted me, never know him better than she knew me._

"I don't believe it."

"Well, you'd better get with the believing. And the leaving. Why the heck are you here anyway? I thought Buffy begged you to stay and you did your tortured walking away act. Leaving her to get comforted by blonde and pasty. Leaving her so she could get over you. " Xander's smile was small, hard, didn't reach his eyes as he reminded the man he hated, "Sometimes it sucks to get exactly what you want, huh?"

Angel slunk backwards, pulling the other two with him, watching Buffy and Spike exchange goodbyes with Willow and another girl he didn't recognize. The body language between his one true and tortured love and her new man was relaxed, languid, but somehow urgent. _They want to get out of here. They want to be alone. They want to-_ His fangs broke through and the woman beside him slapped his shoulder hard, startling him as well as Xander.

"Stop that!" She hissed. "Just answer Xander. Why the heck did you come here? There are no crises today! This is a crises free zone!"

Angel shifted back to his human features with an effort. "Why are you letting this happen? I came back because- just- I wanted to tell her something I found out, okay?"

"You don't have to keep coming up here when you don't plan on staying around. They made these things called phones since you died." Xander growled. "I've always known what you were. You like to make her run to you- and need you- and then you disappear. You leave us to pick up the pieces."

"Is that why you're letting her go on seeing him?" Angel flashed him an incredulous look.

"Let?" Anya's eyes flared. "You don't 'let' a slayer do things." She gave him a frown.

"I'm not crazy about her dating the undead. _Any_ of them." Xander reminded Angel.

"No. No, you never were. And that's they way it should be, really. She needs-" he swallowed painfully yet again, "a human. Someone she can live a normal life with." _Someday that could be me..._

"Bull." Xander let out a sigh of relief as Buffy and Spike turned from the main entrance and decided to head to the side alley door, probably planning to patrol a little on their way to- ugh- wherever they were going to go be "alone". "You know she's not going to have normal-"

"So you want her to keep finding the freaks, the ones who'll hurt her? Then what will you do, Xander?" Angel's voice became decidedly more evil sounding, mocking and snide. "You step in? You pick up the pieces the way you really wanted to? Buffy's white knight, isn't that what you dream of being? More than that? You want to be the comforter, the replacement?"

Xander let out a shaking breath, realizing he was seriously in over his head- but not really caring anymore. Because he was the heart. He wasn't anything else super, he was never going to win the physical strength contest or the speed trials. He was going to protect Buffy the only way he knew how- and really, right now- kinda the only way that counted. "What I think, what I used to think, doesn't matter. You didn't come here for a second chance."

"You threw that away, again." Anya added softly, eyes riveted to her boyfriend's face as it seemed to harden, not with the anger it had earlier, but with something more calm and determined. That quirky, half-grown look was getting replaced by something older, wiser- infinitely more deadly than just rage and frustration. A man on a mission, who means every word he says.

"Fine, I don't get a second chance," _Not yet. Someday maybe..._ "But I want Spike to leave her alone. If I'm not good for her, fine, I admit it, but he's gotta be a million times worse and if you won't stop this-" the fangs were back, "I will."

"No one stops this, but Buffy. It's her life, and it's her call. And if you want to try to stop it, you can do it over my dead body. But that'll just really piss her off." Xander's voice was eerily calm, yet venomous, each word barbed, but precise.

"You make him dead- I make you dead." Anya felt compelled to chime in, moved by fear more than common sense. Xander wasn't playing around, so she couldn't afford to either.

Angel laughed softly. "You two do realize who you're talking to, right? A wannabe boyfriend and some teenager threatening me? I used to eat ones like you for breakfast."

"Bringing that up really doesn't make you look like the prime candidate for walking out of here. And if you mess up their night, well- let's just say all of us know now, like _really_ know, what a slayer can do when she's mad. You wouldn't like it."

"Is this some big stunt to try to impress the girl? Or impress Buffy with the tough guy routine?" Angel gaped at him.

Xander shook his head. "You don't get it. I am not Buffy boyfriend material. _I_ am the big brother, dude, and big brothers have first dibs on kicking the asses of the exes." A genuine note of enthusiasm crept in at that pronouncement. "Unlike you, I actually care if she's _happy._ You got your sacred mission and your noble ideas and hey, if it's workin' for ya- please, for the love of God, keep doing it far, far away from here! I just have to tell you, duty's swell, but if you're not happy while you're doing it- you don't do it for long."

"You don't seriously expect me to believe that Spike makes her happy." Angel snarled, head whipping around in the air as they finally pushed him through to the sidewalk and the night breeze struck him. He could smell scents they couldn't. Pheromones. Hormones. Buffy's scent. Spike's scent. Hideously mingled, and becoming more mingled as the seconds ticked by. His sensitive hearing could detect what humans couldn't. Soft whispers coming around the corner. _Love you, Slayer._ A pause, wet kisses, not on her lips, somewhere else on her skin, because she spoke, _My sweet Spike. I wish we hadn't walked, so we could be home faster... Shhh, Pet, get you there, keep you all night..._ Angel shuddered and words, words directed to him, were penetrating his haze again.

"-and he's a snide, scrawny little creep, but I gotta say, he never broke a girl's heart. You and Drusilla- you're the heartbreakers, Spike and Buffy get dumped on. Well, no more. Oh- and before you make her angry, 'cause you don't want that, let me re-introduce you to Anya."

"Hi. We haven't gotten to know each other very well." In one of those oddly comical moments, Angel and the girl smiled stiffly, shook hands, and nodded politely before Xander returned to death gripping the older brunette's arm.

"No, I remember you, I just- um- yeah, we didn't hang out much when I was still in two- date? Right?"

"Yeah." Xander relaxed his grip, then dropped his hands altogether. "But we more than date. You told me I wanted to be Buffy's white knight? She doesn't need one. I _do_ have a thing for incredibly strong, hot women, though."

"Yet femininely vulnerable when appropriate." Anya beamed.

Xander took her hand. "I got my happy. Sorry you don't get yours."

"They told me what happens what you do." Anya patted Angel's arm sympathetically. "I'm sorry- but honestly relieved that you're miserable."

Angel opened his mouth once, then locked his jaw. This had to be part of the suffering. Had to be. But he was getting used to the pain, and the pain made him good, and the good made him fight for atonement. It had to be this way. For now. His destiny ordained it.

_Why I feel this way about our love_

_And what I must do_

He stepped out of the range of their hands with a terse nod. "Don't tell her I came?"

"You want me to lie?"

"No! Yes. I don't know."

"She'd kick your brooding butt all the way back to LA." Xander snorted derisively.

"You don't understand anything about love. It sacrifices. It protects." Angel shook the boy by the collar suddenly.

"You don't think putting up with Spike three or more times a week is a sacrifice?" Xander rolled his eyes and calmly brushed the fists off of his shirt.

"As for protects- he's the heart's protector. Buffy doesn't need any other kind of protection." Anya rubbed Xander's shoulders loyally. "We'll tell her, because we don't want to keep things from our friends. But we won't tell her right away."

"Don't try anything funny on your way out of town." Xander warned.

Angel huffed and rolled his eyes, adjusting his dark overcoat with a shrug.

"I mean it." Xander nodded. "I might be a snack to you- but Buffy's everything to her friends. Never try to take away a person's everything. The results are really bad." Images flashed inside his mind's eye. Take away Spike, Buffy's perfect match, the everything in one bad (at least to him) package- and the world went to hell in heartbeat. Take away Spike- and his own world went to hell right along with it. "Really bad." His hazel eyes seared the dark brown looking at him.

"He hasn't told me all the details yet," Anya spoke up, "but I know he's telling the truth. If you take away what matters most to someone, they can destroy everything to try to save it."

"I wouldn't hurt Buffy." Angel glowered and stepped into the recess between the Bronze and the building next door.

"Don't hurt her heart either. I think she's finally starting to heal after the last time you broke it."

Angel stiffened his spine and disappeared into the night._ Idiots. They think I'd hurt her. Spike lives to hurt humans. So he can't right now. So he isn't the type to play this long, drawn out game. He never learned the technique. That you have to really love the girl to hurt her. He stopped at love. But he can't love a human, he can only love monsters, that's all he is. A monster._

Angel leapt to a fire escape and then up to a balcony, working his way from rooftop to rooftop, heading to the dilapidated warehouse region where he'd parked his car, moving far, far away from his stupid idea. Coming to see her before he'd won his prize- that was just jinxing himself. That was playing to her flawed, school girl logic. That love will save you from all the bad things in the world. _She_ wouldn't know. _She's_ never been the bad thing. If she had- if she'd ever known how having something evil inside could change you, how love couldn't just wash-

"Wait 'til you see it. Put up shelves an' Clem put a cedar chest in."

"In the bathroom?"

"No, Luv, in the bedroom. Oh, bollocks. I forgot towels!"

"I didn't." Buffy and Spike strolled, arms around waists, on the street below him. Angel fought the impulse to lunge down, but morbid curiosity made him stand in silence, enthralled. "You know- you could get a reputation as nest restorer." She quipped. "What with the one bedroom, one bath, living room with breakfast nook thing going on."

"It's not a nook. It's a fridge an' a microwave on top of a coffin an' a lot of extension cords." He sighed. "An' the second armchair was pushing it, Luv. If I add anymore to the place, people will think we're shackin' up together."

Buffy bit her lip. "I know. I- you're right, I-"

"Think we oughta alternate nights to keep Joyce off the scent for a bit longer?"

"What- alternate as in- you come to my place?"

"You know I told you the difference between me and Forehead was that I wouldn't just come to the window- I'd come in?"

"Yes." She sounded breathless, slightly shocked.

"Well, remember what I said next?"

"Yeah. That you're not a rutting pig or hog or 'd come in- just to tell me you loved me and kiss me goodnight."

The figures halted alongside a street sign, one way headed to the warehouses, one headed to the outskirts of town. Angel didn't know which way the pair was heading, but he prayed it was opposite of him. He couldn't take listening to this guile anymore.

"I could be quiet. I could jus' pop in. But I'm pretty sure- that I'll always wanna tell my girl I love her. An' get my kiss goodnight."

Angel took a second look, stopped by that voice._ Not_ Spike's voice. Not the Spike he knew. Even in the darkness, he could see those two, faces unchanged in dark of night, same as they were in the smokily lit club. Spike looked different than he'd ever seen him. Wide blue eyes weren't plotting anything, smile was genuine and soft, but not over eager. That wasn't William, and it wasn't William the Bloody, either. That was just some guy in love. And who could blame him, when the girl had that look in her eyes, like you were the only person on earth?

_If you could only see how blue_

_Her eyes can be when she says_

_When she says she loves me_

"I always want you to tell me. Even if you come by for just five minutes." She whispered, hands resting on either shoulder as they seemed to be swaying to mood music only they could hear. Angel imagined that must be what it was like when you were in love. He felt a pang of realization that something must've been missing from their own love story. There were often dreams, and often secret meetings, but there'd never been that moment when you dance without music, when you stop in the middle of nowhere because everyplace seems like you own it.

"Starting now? We're gettin' very mushy, Pet."

"So? It can go on our deep, dark secrets list. Or you don't have to tell me. You could just show me when we get inside." Her voice was a flirtatious purr.

"I can do both." He tugged her arm into the crook of his elbow and they walked briskly away, under the moonlight. "Can tell you an' show you all night. Might do that actually. Do we have to get up for a White Hat Round Up in the mornin'?"

"No." She giggled. "You make us sound like cowboys. And by the way- your American accent _sucks_."

"The only thing worse is your English one, Pet." He laughed as she kicked one petite foot at him. "Still love you though."

"I know. I'm just so lovable."

"You gotten bloody cocky lately."

"Must happen when you know you're someone's destiny and they're sticking around."

"Must be." Spike's chest swelled with pride._ I make her like that. Happy. Confident. All that power just where it should be. An' she'll share it with jus' me. God, I'm a lucky man._

"Yep, that's gotta be it." Buffy sashayed ahead of him, just a little faster. "So _you_ should be getting insufferable pretty soon._ More_ insufferable."

"Oi! I got that!"

"Well, now get me!" Buffy laughed and darted away. With a dark honeyed chuckle, Spike gave chase. In the darkness above, Angel stood motionless.

"She's his destiny? He's hers?" He mumbled the words to himself, emptiness filling him more completely than he'd thought possible. "But..."

Xander's words echoed in his head. "Sometimes it sucks to get exactly what you want, huh?"

* * *

><p>"Are you sure you want to help?" A laughing Joyce unlocked the door of the gallery and let Giles inside. He laughed as well, then fell silent as he surveyed the mountains of yellow and white invoices, shipping notices, and a dozen or more large wooden packing crates. There must've been work enough for hours in this room.<p>

"Goodness, there must be hours' worth of work here! Do you often work this late?" Giles slid out of his casual sports coat immediately and walked carefully around the show room.

"Well, I didn't used to. But with Buffy at college, there was nothing to hurry home for and- the gallery's had a booming year. Longer hours. Open later." She smiled wanly. "It's daunting, isn't it? I wouldn't blame you if you suddenly had an urgent slaying-related emergency."

"Heavens, no." He expertly seized the small crowbar leaned on top of a box and opened a crate in a few seconds. "This is a light load. When a new exhibit arrived for the museum where I served as curator, it used to take two to three weeks to catalogue shipments. And there was often Interpol or the sending county's own police underfoot the whole time." He groused and swiftly opened the rest of the crates immediately surrounding him.

Joyce watched him move, thinking- and then chiding herself for thinking- that Giles was in excellent shape for someone in his early forties. That he hadn't gone soft, not even "husky". "You opened those in a fraction of the time it takes me, I'll give you that." She said gratefully, handing him a rag to wipe his dusty hands with. "Not to play the weak and feeble woman card, but it usually takes me about five minutes per crate."

"Oh, well- Buffy puts me through my paces." Giles coughed, suddenly flushed and feeling very- masculine. Yes, masculine was the right word, something he didn't often bother taking the time or making the effort to feel. He usually focused on being smart, and being right, and being_ there_ when he was needed. Feeling like the strong one next to a slayer was a luxury he couldn't bother with. Still, it was nice to be helpful, to make Joyce look at him with admiration in those careworn eyes. To see them brighten for a second. "Perhaps you could have her help you open the next shipment. Or - or even Spike might lend a hand. Or- erm- I'm free at times. Until I find something suitable in terms of employment."

"They won't pay you, those people?" Joyce hauled a large ledger off the glass topped gallery display and untucked a pen from her wavy hair.

"The Watcher's Council? No. They won't. I- disobeyed orders."

"You make them sound like Nazis."

"Nothing so blatant, I assure you."

"What did you do, exactly?" Joyce peered into one crate, and Giles gently lifted out a small, delicate butterfly sculpture made of frosted glass.

"I- where would you like this?"

"All of them along the back wall, on the floor, please. Look, my bookkeeping system is indecipherable to everyone but me. Would you mind being the muscle and I'll do the paperwork?" She asked, nibbling the tip of the pen after making some notations in the ledger.

"Oh, a welcome change, I assure you. I'm usually the one scribbling away." Giles held up the statue and let Joyce record another detail or two before putting it down on the floor where instructed.

"So. What orders?"

_Hell._ He cleared his throat and kept his story brief, and factual, using Travers' words to sum up the events, not tell the whole sordid story he wished he could forget. "Buffy was to be given a test. She was to receive no help, from anyone. It was supposed-" he refrained from picking up another statue because his hands had suddenly become unsteady, "it was supposed to be a test of her cunning and her skill, but it was a cruel, stupid, pointless test that kills more than it helps." Joyce's pen clattered to the floor.

"They- they gave her this test? Those people who she- she works for?"

"_Worked_ for. She won't take their orders anymore. Nor will I. When they fired me, she quit." His heart swelled with pride, and he couldn't keep the look from his face. Joyce saw it. He coughed and hurriedly lifted another sculpture out.

"She loves you." Joyce murmured, eyes scanning the statue with a practiced eye.

"That was where we failed, according to the Council. Well, this present Council." He hid a furtive smile, recalling the Council from ancient first to the most recent's approval, their gift to him. "Travers said I had a father's love for her. He was right. And that- according to him, was wrong." He gave a small, forced laugh. "Funny, isn't it? To tell a man to Watch his Slayer, see her fight, see her fail, see her win- but tell him never to let himself grow attached?"

"Bastards." Joyce made a jagged notation and angrily turned to the next object.

"Agreed." He set out the next piece.

"I thought the point was to protect her, help her."

"It was. It should have been. But- there is such a thing as getting too involved." _Poor Crowley. Poor Wood._ "There's also such a thing as staying too detached. An instrument to train and teach. A volume of archaic wisdom and tradition in human form." He sneered.

"But you didn't let it stay that way. You chose to become her friend. You're like a father to her. Honestly." Joyce put down the ledger, and regarded him, arms crossed protectively around herself.

"Thank you." Giles became inordinately fascinated with the straw baling he was unravelling, trying not to blush at the compliment. The highest compliment to him, from one of his severest critics.

"I mean it. Sadly. Do you know Hank never did call her?" Giles shook his head and pushed the protective packing materials to the side with sudden forcefulness. Joyce smiled and hid it. _ It drives him crazy, too. Because he's involved. He cares. Even if it cost him his job. I can't imagine Hank giving up his precious job for anything, not anymore..._ "Thank you, Rupert. For doing the right thing for my daughter. Even with all of those higher ups- even with me- against you." She fixed her eyes on him, really looking at him for the first time, as a person, not just a job, not just a role in Buffy's crazy world. This was a person who got dragged through the mud and risked his life- and still met her baby and her friends at their little dance party, even though no one made him. He wasn't obligated to do that, to be in her world or her life. "It's really rare to find someone who goes above and beyond, these days." She said in a soft, melancholy tone.

_Seems the road less traveled_

_Shows happiness unraveled_

Giles shrugged modestly as he presented a stained glass geometric figure for her inspection. "It's not rare once you know Buffy." They shared a rueful smile. "It's worth it, and she brings it easily to the forefront, because she does the same thing. Her heart pushes her on, to difficult places. She looks past the surface more than you'd think. If Travers had gotten to know her like I-" Giles coughed apologetically, embarrassed. He'd been rambling. Rambling emotionally as well, good Lord. He concluded in a more controlled tone. "If people could just get to know each other, perhaps-" his glasses glinted in the overhead lights as he dared a quick glance at her pale, smooth face, "perhaps good things wouldn't seem so rare, so hard to come by."

"I was thinking the same thing myself." Joyce nodded, and reached into the next wooden box at the same moment he did. She released the figurine as their fingers touched, and Giles pulled it forward with a startled exclamation.

"You bought this?" He frowned at a smaller version of the _Artemis Attended_ statue they'd discussed at the opening of the museum exhibit. "I admit, it's very good, but the- the associations are- painful." He ran his hands over the smooth, still figure of the young girl on the hunt, her features blank and determined, done in carefully carved opacity. _What Buffy might have looked like, if she ignored her heart, only lived for the kill, swore faithfulness only to her lethal art._

Joyce nodded, also running a fingertip down the curiously haunted face. "I didn't plan on selling it. It's a reminder." Her voice was thin and tight, like she was speaking around something lodged in her throat. "Of what Buffy could be like. Alone." The voice strengthened, even though her eyes seemed to grow weaker, slightly pink at the edges suddenly. "A reminder not to put my mistakes on her. Looking for perfection- and ending up alone instead."

_And you got to take a little dirt_

_To keep what you love_

Giles' voice was soft, but bruising, some note of grim determination under it. "Who says you're going to end up alone?" He demanded.

"Second chances don't happen that often." Joyce gave him a resigned, bittersweet grin, and pushed the statue more fully into his hands, suddenly not wanting it near her.

"No. But it's a bloody fool who doesn't at least try to get one. Or give one." His voice came out in a harsh whisper, almost a pant, as he made their gazes connect. _Don't make me spell it out, Joyce. You know there's a second chance right here, but I've used up a lot of courage and I'm no damn good at this anymore, if I ever was._

Joyce's lips twitched convulsively._ Second chances? For Buffy? For me? For him? Or does he mean- for all of us? As an 'us'?_

Her hands fell from their protective shield across her chest, brushing his hands on the way down.

He grabbed for them-

letting go of the figurine.

Joyce watched in wide eyed silence as the glass hit the floor and shattered in a score of shards.

This time his voice was ragged, slightly breathless. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "That's the best reminder of all." She looked at the shattered shell of an empty life on the floor. "Buffy's not going to end up like that."

"Neither will you." His hands made tight circles on her wrists, one sliding up to her shoulder with slow deliberation.

Joyce felt her head spinning with the suddenness of it- and yet the odd feeling that this wasn't so sudden at all, as he gripped her and pulled her into a completely ungentlemanly, completely unreserved embrace.

"Oh!" She cried out when they skidded on the broken glass, falling, falling, to their knees in the middle of her gallery. "Rupert, the statue!"

He replied in a low voice, a passion-filled voice. "I'll work it off. Just give me the chance, Joyce." She nodded, throat too constricted to speak. But her eyes were speaking volumes, as were her hands. One hand slowly moved to the back of his head, and her eyes hesitantly closed. His own eyes followed suit and his head bent to hers as he reassured, "I'd do anything to repair any damages we've all had..."

_That's what you gotta do_

* * *

><p><em>Sayin' you love but you don't<em>

_You give your love but you won't_

Riley's black sedan paused at the stop sign. He'd been delayed by a week because of his encounter with Buffy and Hostile 17. His face would never be the same, and he had the medical issued metal detector bypass card, along with the pins and plates in his jaw to prove it. He'd missed the chance to be deployed to Belize with his new unit because of the surgery he'd required, but all he had to say was "HST" and he was green lighted to fly down with a supply plane and meet them there a week late.

He sincerely had hoped he'd never set eyes on either of them again. It would probably be fatal for him if he did.

Sunnydale didn't like him.

He saw them, like something out of a nightmare musical. The vampire vaulted the iron railing circling his cemetery, swung his human lover up in a graceful arc, set her down, and they were running again. Together.

It wasn't even that they looked deliriously happy or anything. It was the way they moved. Like one person split in two bodies, and they were enjoying being reunited.

Riley sped past, amazed that he had been there, at just that moment, just to see one more proof of something he had slowly been forced to believe.

"She really does love him. It's not that she doesn't love anyone, that she can't love anyone..."

_You're stretching out your arms_

_To something that's just not there_

"It's just that she never loved me. Maybe I never loved her either." He thought of the fleeting image he'd been given. No, he'd never really loved her. Not the way that the vampire did. Like he didn't care if she was wrong or right, or shades of gray. It was too much to ask of a normal person. She did need someone supernatural. At least -at last- she found him.

_Sayin' you love where you stand_

_Give your heart when you can_

* * *

><p>"That scenic route was fun, but too scenic." Spike growled and nibbled the straps off of Buffy's shoulders as soon as they'd shut the door.<p>

"You don't like playing tag?"

"I prefer to think of it as hunting practice, with the catch, but not the kill." He bit down on her neck softly and she thrust her hips backwards against him. "Kitty likes?"

"You're the one who purrs." Buffy moved forward, leading them to the ladder, kicking her shoes off as she went. "Am I making you purr, Baby?"

"Almost." He jumped down the ladder first, and halted her. "Lemme put some candles on. Want you to be able to see our new bath in all it's glory."

Buffy swung herself over the edge and dangled her legs down, toes on the top rung of the ladder. "You said 'our'." She rubbed her arms, and it had nothing to do with the semi-cool air the basement level produced.

"What?" Spike shouted up, and the blackness became a warm, yellow glow as he made his rounds with the lighter.

"You said 'our bath'."

"Well, you can have one to yourself, but it's a ruddy big tub. See no reason not to share." His head popped up and he beckoned her down. She dropped gracefully, and he immediately covered her eyes. "How do you feel about blindfolds by the way?" He propelled her towards the back of the makeshift bedroom.

"Spiiiike." She groaned.

"Seriously, now, it's like getting a whole box full of surprises. All nice ones." He kissed her neck as they came to a halt.

"I want my surprises in pretty boxes from the mall, preferably not full of stolen goods. No blindfolds needed." She elbowed him in the ribs as he paused, hands still over her eyes.

"Fair enough. For now." He removed his hands, and asked expectantly, "Well?"

Buffy stared. The pipes were all exposed. There was a toilet, jammed next to a tiny pedestal sink which had a shelf haphazardly hung over it and mirror balanced on it. A massive, ancient tub with clawed feet dominated little room.

Spike watched her, watched her eyes widen, head swivel, and say nothing. "Not very posh, I know that."

"There's no door." Buffy blurted. Spike made an intemperate noise which he turned into a fixed smile and a patient offer.

"I'll get us a curtain an' a clothesline. Will that do?" _Why'd she have to be a valley girl? Hmm? I know I'm evil, but this is a bit of a stiff punishment. Doesn't she have any idea how bloody complicated it is to run proper plumbing here? This is held together with duct tape and possibly some of Nate's spells._

Buffy turned around once in the small room, really looking at everything. It was for her. He had this done for_ her._ He didn't need it. The mirror was what caught her eye the most. Spike bathed, sure, so the tub might've been nice for him, and the indoor plumbing might have worked in his favor since it meant she could spend more time there without leaving and coming back, but the mirror- there was no reason for the mirror. Except that he was thinking of her. This whole room was really about her.

"It's beautiful. It's perfect." Buffy's turning led her face to face with him, and she beamed up into his dark sapphire eyes. "Thanks, Spike. I love it. I just- love it. Love you."

_If you could only see the way she loves me_

_Then maybe you would understand_

Spike's startled expression was quickly replaced with that boyish smile he'd worn so often lately. "Glad you like it. Ready to test drive this thing?" He tapped the bath's edge. In answer, Buffy slipped her arms from her thin straps that were already off her shoulders and let her dress hit the floor, revealing a narrow strapless bra and brief pair of panties.

"Let's." She purred, and edged around him, deliberately brushing against him as she headed back to the bedroom area to retrieve some of the toiletries she'd brought over. Body wash made bubble bath in a pinch. She heard the water running and the faint rustle of clothes coming off underneath it.

"Really don't mind it's a bit roughshod?" Spike's voice was inches behind her as she rummaged through her bag, and then his lukewarm, naked skin was against hers as he encircled her waist from behind.

"You did it for me. For us." She turned and ran her hands adoringly over his neck, down his back, nestling closer suddenly. Tonight she'd faced a lot of fears and left her friends without saying much about them. She was happy, she was in love, and she was relieved to have someone to cling to right now. "You said this was ours."

"It is ours, Precious." His thumbs hooked expertly over her waistband and she stepped out of her underwear as he sent them to her ankles. "A place for you an' me."

Buffy let him unsnap her bra and thrust her back into a curve as his mouth immediately captured her tightly rising nipples. She whimpered in a sudden surge of pleasure and pulled away so they could get back to the tub. "You don't understand how weird- but good weird, it is for me to hear you say stuff like that. Even if it freaks me out if I think about it too hard." She squeezed a large amount of foaming bubbles in the water, which was steaming and making the stone walls glisten in the candle light, making the waxy lights sputter.

"Don't go scaredy cat on me now, Heart." Spike tested the temperature, realized that was ridiculous because he couldn't properly tell if it was too hot for living flesh, and motioned for her to check. "Weren't afraid to love this wicked demon, but you worry about me makin' the place human-friendly?"

"Not worry." Buffy tested it, sighed in bliss and sank into the tub. "Think too much." She splashed delightedly. "If people were smaller back in the olden days, why did they make the tubs so big?"

"To dump the whole pack of kids in it at once and only heat the water the one time, I dunno." He climbed in after her, scooting up close, face to face, pulling her knees across his. "Don't change the subject."

She paused and absently played with his pale marblesque toes, rubbing them and somehow turning it into a kneading massage which made him instantly start his rumbling "happy noise". She giggled to herself and shook her head. "I know I should never compare the two of you, but I do. I- you know I thought Angel and I were it."

"I know." For some reason, when she put it like that, in the past tense, it didn't bother him as much. He could talk to her about Dru, seemed fair to return the favor- even if eventually she said something that made him good and mad and ready to kill his old partner in crime.

"He never got a mirror for me. I mentioned it once. I mentioned keeping stuff- a drawer full- at the place on Crawford Street." Her voice shrank, and she felt her calves being pulled as Spike slid her to him, offering her a place in his arms. "Sorry. It's stupid. It's just- for a guy who loved me, I don't think he ever wanted me to get close to him." She blinked suddenly.

Spike tried to keep his voice from sounding hard, making it come out quietly, but factually. "He was afraid to let you get close. He always pushed you away, didn't he, Luv? Not 'cause he didn't love you." The hell you say. That's not love. Not the real thing, that's the saintly, from afar deal. Don't work outside of churches. Bastard always liked churches. And virgins. Not surprising really, took up with the biggest whore in the history of vamps, must've wanted something fresh on occasion.

"You zoned." Buffy scooted herself intimately close, her sex nudging his hardness as she cuddled herself into his lap, head on his collarbone. Her eyes looked up, wanting him to finish the reassuring explanation.

"He kept you away 'cause he didn't think he was any good for you. Didn't want to hurt you. So he- didn't let you get close."

"But that hurts the worst." Buffy's voice emerged as a soft, sad squeak.

"I know. An' I don't hurt my lover like that." He pulled her chest to chest with him, looking into her eyes with sudden fierceness. "You can call it selfish, but I want you with me. That's what you want, too."

"I know. I wasn't comparing in a 'I wish things were different' way." Her own eyes blazed. "I'm comparing in a 'God, I'm so glad I'm with you instead of anyone else' way."

_Why I feel this way about our love_

"Do anything for you. Put up a shelf, put in a mirror, take a bullet. Even keep that damn sugar water upstairs where it's taking valuable blood storage space." He smirked.

She paused, licking her lips as she moved her head the final fraction of space to join it with his. "I know. I'd do anything for you, too."

_And what I must do_

* * *

><p><em>If you could only see how blue<em>

_Her eyes can be when she says_

_When she says she loves me_

"I love you." Tara's eyes were half closed, heavy lidded.

"You sure this is okay?"

"I'm safe." Tara smiled lazily into Willow's eyes. Eyes right above her this time.

"Are you sure you shouldn't be the one who does this?" Willow kissed her hungrily, more boldly than ever before. "I never tried this 'extension of self' thing before."

"Listen to me. I'm the one with the spooky powers- you're the one with the talent." Tara teasingly smiled. "But- but if it feels weird, we don't have to-"

"No! No, I just- if you're sure it won't make you feel- um- feel things you don't want to feel?" _Something inside you. More than fingers. I don't know who did it to her, I don't even know what exactly they did, but if I ever see him, I'll rip his penis off. He doesn't deserve to have it. Not that I do. Oh, God, did I just have phallic issues during lesbian sex?_ "I think I hurt my brain." Willow suddenly moaned and put her head onto Tara's soft, heaving bosom.

"Sweetie- the extension of yourself spell is just extrasensory, like reaching outside of yourself. Reaching into m-me. If it w-was a bad thing, I wouldn't have suggested it." Tara's voice shook. Both of them had come home so desperate to touch, so heated by kisses, so eager to make love, senses heightened by the rush of finally openly showing their love and it being accepted by all they cared about most.

"It's like little pieces of my senses go where I want them?"

"And we both feel them." _Feel something inside me. Not something hard or bad or hurtful. Something purely Willow. In me. Not a toy, not some fake part that should be on a man, but that I'm "reduced" to using because I choose who I love, and it's a woman. But she's all that I want to love._

"I'm not good at this. I'm not even good at the- the stuff we usually do, I'm new at it."

"Then you're rookie of the year." Tara's sweet, trusting smile, which didn't quite match her burning blue eyes, lured her lover back into boldness.

"I'd never hurt you." Willow teased the blonde hair cascading off the pillow.

"Why do you think I'm giving myself to you? A-and wanting you right back?" Tara's mouth moved to her girlfriend's shoulder as they glided together, heated skin to heated skin, all external, all good, but waiting for something more, something deeper. Now that the fear was gone.

Willow did the spell like she did all her spells, with a confident burst, power rushing- only with Tara to keep her steady, she knew her spell wouldn't go wrong. "Extendere ipse, pervenire praeteritum ipse."_ Extend myself, reach outside of myself. Tara had her fingers on just the right spot to make it extend into - oh. My. GOD._

"Does that hurt?" Willow demanded in a high, tense yelp.

"Oh no. No, no, no." Tara moaned and thrashed, waited for some flashbacks to occur, and yet wasn't surprised when all that happened was blinding ecstasy. "It feels like something in me is- glowing."

"Everything in you already glows." Willow's eyes rolled back. All of her seemed to be surrounded by this pounding, pulsing, warmth. And it was all connected to one majorly good smoochie place.

"That- oh wow- that's new." Tara's own eyes went heavenward. "It's like being filled up with light. Really talented, pleasure-seeking light."

"The heck with penis envy, if I tell Xander about this, he's gonna want wicca lessons."

"Baby!" Tara gasped and laughed.

"Don't worry. This is one secret I'm going to hold on to." Willow rocked faster, feeling something not quite flesh, but sort of tingly, moving with her, moving through Tara. "I love this. I love being connected to you."

"Get used to it." Tara had another surge of confidence, brought on by Willow's adoration.

"I can't believe you're mine." Willow whispered.

"Always yours."

* * *

><p>"This has been a weird night. We're never the last ones out." Anya perched on Xander's knee as he reclined on one of the couches lining the Bronze's back wall.<p>

"Weird sums it up nicely." He stroked her calves.

"You seem tired."

"I didn't know emotional growth was so exhausting. And achey. Like swimming without the chlorine and the embarrassingly tight trunks."

"Ooh, we should play the busty lifeguard and the swim team star again. I like those little Speedos."

"I like the busty part." He smiled at her and struggled upright.

"We don't have to do stuff tonight. You were all- manly. Which is very, very moist-making. Yet tiring for you. I understand."

"Do you have a fever?" Xander sat up all the way and pressed a palm to Anya's forehead. "Did you seriously just say we should have sleep instead of sex?"

"Mmhmm." She nodded and pulled him to his feet. "And we should go home before they kick us out of here."

"Okay." Xander allowed himself to be led, staring uncertainly at her. "Are you sure you don't feel sick or something? Maybe lightheaded?"

"Oh, you think I still think missing sex for a night means impending break up." She waved her hand. "I'm over that. That was months ago."

"Yeah... but it was a big deal."

"That was because I didn't understand that you loved me all the way." She halted and turned to him. "I thought maybe you didn't really feel the same feelings I had. The really strong ones, that make your stomach hurt."

_Sayin' you love but you don't_

_You give your love but you won't_

"No, I had those feelings. I was just trying to hold on to some other stuff at the same time, and it kind of hid them. But I'm done with that now. Stupidly, publicly, creating a scene, and wrestling a vampire out of a club done with it." He sighed. "Sorry I didn't man up a little bit earlier."

"You were always very manful! It's not easy to love someone like me." Her head went down and bounced back up, because self-pity had a short shelf-life these days. "Everyone told me that, for all of my life. Besides, I know sometimes I make you crazy." She gave him a hint of a smile.

"I love when you make me crazy."

_Sayin' you love where you stand_

_Give your heart when you can_

Anya's smile faded, replaced by a look of deep reflection as they headed out the door, down the alley to his car. "I meant it, you know. That night? When I said I waited for you a thousand years."

"I know, Babe. I meant it when I said you could have me for the next thousand."

* * *

><p>"There are going to be a thousand questions from the guys." Buffy groaned and momentarily stopped bouncing on Spike.<p>

"I know that." He gripped her cheeks harder and sank her tight pink muscles more fully onto his stiffness, creating another splash over the lip of the tub. "Your call, Pet. How you want to answer them."

"I don't want to answer too much." She tilted his head out of her cleavage and up to meet her eyes. "I just want to be with you, and they get that."

"We'll be together. You answer the questions you think need answerin', I'll sit there and look satisfied."

"But not too satisfied, right?" Buffy asked nervously.

Spike paused, grinned wickedly, and arched one eyebrow. "I s'pose I can try to hide it."

_If you could only see the way she loves me_

_Then maybe you would understand_

_Why I feel this way about our love_

_And what I must do_

"I'll make it worth your while." Buffy laughed, and spun off of him, splashing back, onto her back. "Come and get it, Mr. Big Bad." She ran one nail along her neck and across her breasts as they peeped out over the deep water.

"Slayer callin' me the Big Bad. Bloody hell, you do love me."

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Yeah. I do."

_When she says she loves me..._

_To be concluded via epilogue._


	32. Epilogue

Unmentionable

by Sweetprincipale

_A sequel to "Uncontrollable". Please read that first, or this won't make much sense. Begins about a week after the "Uncontrollable" version of the incidents at the Lowell House in Where the Wild Things Are. _

_Dedicated to Alexiarrose- who notices the small things, to ginar369- for her deep friendship, to Sirius 120- who challenges me, to DLilith21, for her devotion, Inazea, Constance Truggle, micmoc, Illusera,_ _omslagspapper, MMwillow13, kasloumor, Medusamylove, suchagleekx, cavemenftw, Starscape91, lil-leti, MaireAilbhe, McPastey, sbyamibakura, and rosalea12._

_Nothing of Buffy belongs to me, except my sincere admiration. However, this story is all mine._

**_Epilogue_**

"Sorry we bailed last night."

"I do apologize, I didn't know where you'd gone off to and I didn't want to keep Joyce waiting."

"Did you say goodbye to Buffy?"

"No problem."

"Everyone kind of split."

A confused garble of five voices merged and separated in Giles' living room as Tara, Willow, Anya, Xander, and Giles all tried to simultaneously apologize or explain their departure from the Bronze last night.

Giles summed things up in the second of silence. "Yes. It was rather- erm- disjointed, wasn't it?"

"Not the usual." Willow shook her head. "No Buffy?"

"Not yet." Giles gestured to the obviously empty room.

"We left it kind of vague." Xander made himself at home, heading to the kitchen, in search of junk food. " 'See you at Giles' tomorrow night?' isn't too hard and fast."

"Maybe she got post exposed love life cold feet?" Willow asked worriedly.

"I-it's a big deal. Admitting you're different, o-or doing things that some people might not approve of." Tara added.

"It may take a little time." Giles soothed.

"Shouldn't we talk about it? Be there, be supportive, do the friend thing?" Willow twisted her hands nervously.

"I refuse to do the 'friend thing' with Spike." Xander called, emerging with a box of crackers in his arm and a handful in his mouth.

"And he already did the friend thing with Buffy. He did a-" Anya caught his eye and concluded, "a really great job." They wouldn't talk about Angel, not yet. And not before talking to Buffy.

"Wouldn't you want to be reassured again though? After the big reveal-y moment has passed and people have time to think about stuff?" Willow looked around. "Sorry, am I projecting?"

Xander bent and looked deeply into her eyes. "I love you, you little lesbian witch. There. Are you feeling better?"

Willow head butted him gently, smiling at his half-teasing, half-placating tone. "Yes, you who secretly lust after sexy demon chicks."

"You think I'm sexy? In an amorous way or a 'just noticing' way?" Anya asked curiously.

"Just noticing." Willow laughed and Tara giggled as she came to sit beside her.

"You can all stop analyzing the matter." Giles drew his curtains as the sun sank behind the tree line. A glossy black car with painted out windows screeched haphazardly to a standstill outside his flat, perilously close to his own car. "They've arrived."

"Act casual!" Anya yelped and crashed in an exaggeratedly relaxed pose across the desk chair. Giles sighed wearily.

"Don't injure it. It's an heirloom, and its survived multiple attacks already."

Willow plucked at his sleeve, speaking in a whisper. "I know we're cool with it, and we're not making a big deal- but it is kind of a _huge_ deal. For everyone, but especially for Buffy. After Angel. And after Angelus and- everything. Oh, and for Spike, I guess. I mean, he's evil, but now he wants to play on the good guy team, because he loves her. Don't you think you should talk to them, as the responsible, mature adult, father-figure of our scrappy little band?" She gave him a hopeful grin.

Giles rested his hands on her shoulders and stole a look out the half drawn drapes. Buffy and Spike were speaking by the car, in the shadows. The pale man's hands sat on her hips, and her head was close to his. Not embracing, yet intimate. Close. Comfortable. Loved. "Yes, it is a big deal. Yes, I'll be sure to encourage them." He looked around the room, the faces looking to him expectantly, for an explanation about what he'd say, how he'd make this work with these new twists. Twists he already knew some of, but they didn't. How much to tell, and how much to let them learn?

He cleared his throat. "I'll talk to them. I'll tell them about the great good they'll do together, the horrors they'll stop, the worlds and people they'll save." He nodded, eyes watching the couple ambling up to the house, hand in hand.

_I could tell them about the daughter they'll have, about the son they'll lose. I could tell them about how he'll become more than vampire, but still less than human- but always be just enough for her. I could tell them about the death they'll one day share and the heaven they'll go to together. _

Giles looked back at the teens eyeing him curiously, waiting for him to explain more.

"Big opening statement, G-Man. Anymore to follow after the big heavy 'worlds and people they'll save' line?" Xander asked with wide eyes.

Giles smiled to himself. "Watchers can have prophetic dreams, too, you know. Oh, nothing like slayers have, but little hints." He murmured absently, mostly to himself. His smile turned to a rare smirk. "I could tell them so much- but for now- I don't think I'll mention anything more than that. Some things people should discover together." Spike seized Buffy as she reached the steps to the flat and pulled her back for a lingering kiss. "Oh, good heavens!" Giles yanked the curtains shut to give them some privacy- and to give himself a reprieve. A smattering of chuckles confronted him as he spun around with a blush.

With all the dignity he had, Giles gave one more bit of fatherly wisdom. "Some things, my dear children- are better left unsaid."

_Author's Final Note:_

_ The response to this story was amazing. Thank you all, dear readers. You know I try to restrain myself from writing sequels- and that it never works out too well. I'd like to let you know there will be a sequel to Unmentionable in the not too far off future, after I do some work on my other unfinished pieces. Thank you so much for the encouragement, it's a genuine pleasure to write for such great people._


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